God Save the Queen
by Polkadottedgiraffe11
Summary: In the Final Problem, the challenges Eurus set weren't just for Sherlock, but for both Holmes brothers. Worst of all, Mycroft's best kept secret, more so than Eurus, was about to be exposed. Nora Vivian, MI6 Agent, code name: Phoenix, and wife to Mycroft, was about to get drug into this messy affair. Were her spy skills enough to keep her away from the crosshairs? Mycroft/OC
1. Prologue

Prologue

_White House_

_President Obama's Inauguration Ball_

_Washington, DC, 2008_

"I thought you didn't do field work, Mr. Holmes?" Nora asks, slipping into the black limousine behind Mycroft Holmes, the all-important British government official, whom she was apparently given the task to be his date to the Inauguration Ball, while retrieving information from a CIA agent on a joint mission with the American government; well, it was no skin off her back, this was much easier than sneaking in some other way, and Mycroft was easy on the eyes.

"I don't, Ms. Thompson. But, this event is attended by almost every important diplomat and government official. It is an unfortunate necessity in my line of work." Mycroft answers.

"And I got the short end of this stick to be your date?" Nora questions, raising a delicate brow as she fixes her clutch in her lap.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that question for you, Ms. Thompson. I believe someone else may have assigned you this assignment." Mycroft answers.

"Mr. Holmes, let's not beat around the bush here, if at all possible. There are plenty of capable agents in the agency… I didn't just get picked by random. I am not at all as dumb as you believe me to be. I may not be able to deduce the world around me as you can. But, I am not at all as stupid or unintelligent as you think." Nora gives Mycroft a look. "Now, let us see if we can survive the evening, shall we, _darling?_"

"Yes, let's." Mycroft offers, his shoulders stiffening just a touch to let Nora know she had managed to get under his Iceman's persona just a little.

"Ah, Ambassador Imari, Ayo, how are you? This is my-" Mycroft greets the African Ambassador and his wife.

"His wife, Nora. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ambassador Imari, Ayo." Nora pipes in from Mycroft's side, wrapping an arm around his waist while offering a hand to the Ambassador.

"Wife?" The Ambassador says, chuckling a little and looking surprised. "Well, I always thought it might be someone quite impressive to catch the eye the all-impressive Mycroft Holmes, the British government's Iceman. You must be quite something, Mrs. Holmes. When did this happen?"

"It- it was a quiet affair. We wanted to keep it small. Just family and a few close friends." Mycroft offers, looking distinctly uncomfortable at both Nora and the Ambassador's words.

"Ah, I see. Well, if you ever decide to have another ceremony. Please, my wife and I would love to come." The Ambassador smiles.

"Of course, Mr. Ambassador." Nora smiles graciously, placing her hand on Mycroft's arm.

"Imari, please."

"Then call me, Nora." Nora smiles again.

"Well, as much as my wife and I would love to continue to catch up, you know how these things are. Many people to see and talk to." The Ambassador offers.

"Of course, Ambassador Imari, Ayo." Mycroft replies formally, shaking Ambassador Imari's hand and then graciously kissing Ayo's before the two walk off.

"_Ms. Thompson_." Mycroft hisses, turning on Nora.

"Yes, dear?" Nora answers serenely.

"What are you playing at?" Mycroft asks, his tone severe as he practically hisses the question through his teeth. "What do you hope to gain from this?" He continues as they walk through the well-dressed crowd at the Inauguration Ball; it wasn't as if it wasn't a valid question in his mind, he had connections, he had wealth, and despite what he told people, he was practically a nose away from _being_ the British government, all things that made being connected to him, something worthwhile.

"Please relax, Mycroft. I did us _both_ a favor. You can't tell me that women aren't all over you at these thing." Nora rolls her eyes.

"That's why I was introducing you as my date."

"And, as if that really deters some of the serious-minded." Nora gives Mycroft a look. "I am a woman and a MI6 agent, Mr. Holmes. I have been hit on more times than I can count even with that line. Do you think saying 'I'm with a date' has detoured _those_ men in the past?"

"Very well, I see your point. And for you then?" Mycroft sniffs a bit haughtily as if conceding pained him to do so.

"A certain CIA agent that can't take a hint." Nora answers blithely. "Do you remember being a MI6 agent?" She suddenly asks.

"What- of course?"

"Then, I'm sure you remember the importance of thinking on your feet."

"Of course, Ms. Thompson." Mycroft grits his teeth a little.

"Good. I'm doing just that... So, Mr. Holmes. _Shall we?_" Nora smirks at her boss, or rather her boss' boss' boss (something like that).


	2. Rumors

No One's POV

_SIS Headquarters, London_

_One Week After Inauguration Ball_

"I heard an interesting rumor." Lady Smallwood tells Mycroft after finishing up with their meeting.

"Oh? I don't much pay attention to rumors." Mycroft tells Lady Smallwood, organizing the papers on his desk, neatly, just as he liked.

"Yes. Well, perhaps when they are about you?" Lady Smallwood replies, pausing. "That you got married to an MI6 agent."

"Ah, yes… Well, it was a rather private affair." Mycroft coughs, looking up at Lady Smallwood.

"I see." Lady Smallwood answers with a small nod and a look at Mycroft as if searching for something. "She must be something to capture the heart of Mycroft Holmes. And, if you decide to ever have another ceremony… There are some of us who would very much like to celebrate with you."

"Yes, well, thank you. I would have to bring it up with her." Mycroft says, tugging on the cuff of his suit a little.

"Very well, please do, Mycroft." Lady Smallwood nods. "You deserve some happiness too." She smiles slightly before walking out of his office.

"Anthea." Mycroft pages his assistant immediately.

"Yes?"

"Get me Agent Thompson. _Now_."

"You know, I was just about to ship out."

"No you weren't. Based on your appearance which indicates you hurriedly threw your clothes on, you were sitting home watching tv and eating take out. But you missed a few crumbs, there is a slight shimmer on hands indicating grease, and there is also a faint smell of spices, all of which indicating you ate pizza."

"Alright, _Sherlock_." Nora rolls her eyes and ungracefully plops herself down in a chair in front of Mycroft's desk.

"I'd like to think I'm better than my brother." Mycroft replies, but the slight tick in his face shows his annoyance.

"And I'd like to be at home in sweats eating pizza. Which you so intelligently deduced with your _brilliant_ mind. So what is it you need?" Nora fires back.

"Sign these and you can leave, Ms. Thompson."

"And what _exactly_ am I signing?" Nora asks, leaning forward to look at the document Mycroft had placed on the desk. "_Marriage papers?_ You've got to be _joking_. Did I leave such an impression a week ago that you decided to marry me? Also, may I also point out, it was for a mission."

"Do I look like I'm joking, Ms. Thompson?" Mycroft answers.

"No. But what makes you so certain I want to marry you, Mr. Holmes?" Nora questions right back.

"This is nothing but paper, Ms. Thompson. You can live your life just as you are. I have no wish to hinder that."

"Then why marry me?"

"A certain- matter came up." Mycroft hedges around the fact.

"You mean the rumors came around and now you're covering you ass. Why don't you just tell them it was a lie? Or wait, you rather just get married to someone you don't know then do that… Because that's _obviously_ the answer." Nora rolls her eyes sarcastically.

Mycroft looks distinctly uncomfortable as Nora's truth hits close to home.

"I may not be as smart as you, but don't treat me like I'm stupid, Mycroft. Particularly if I'm going to be married to you." Nora levels Mycroft a look. "And, if I'm signing these papers and hauling your ass out of the fire, it means I'm entitled to the perks of being _your_ wife. Which means… _When do I move in, Mr. Holmes?_"

**_So... This plot bunny began hopping. Then, as usual. Wouldn't leave me the hell alone. And, BOOM, I have a new story I didn't ask for!_**

**_Then, I thought, what the hell... I'm going to try my writing at the Sherlock fandom. I LOVE BBC Sherlock. The acting and story arc is beyond spectacular. Although, I must say, I have a LOT of FEELINGS regarding s4... Most of which, are not great... So, this is me fixing them... Particularly, the Final Problem._**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	3. The Game

No One's POV

_Sherrinford Psychiatric Prison_

_Present Day_

"How are you?" Sherlock asks John.

"Bit of a lump." John answers as Sherlock begins to pace.

"True that, but you have your uses."

"Did you see your sister?" John asks Sherlock as he continues to pace in front of the glass of the room they are all trapped in, Mycroft and the Governor of Sherrinford included.

"Yes."

"How was that?"

"Family's always difficult." Sherlock answers John.

"Is this an occasion for banter?" Mycroft butts in exasperated.

"Mm, case in point." Sherlock gestures to his older brother.

"Are we phoning someone?" John questions, looking around for the ringing noise.

"Apparently." Sherlock answers.

"What's _he_ doing here?" John finally notices the Governor.

"As he is told." Sherlock stops his pacing. "Eurus is in control."

"Help me. Please, I'm on a plane and everyone's asleep. Help me!" A young girl's voice is anxious and tearful.

"Hello. My name's Jim Moriarty." Moriarty's voice suddenly cuts in as the lights in the cell go red. "Welcome… To the final problem."

"It's okay. He's dead." Sherlock answers John's unanswered worries and question.

"He doesn't _sound_ dead."

"This is a recorded announcement. Please say hullo to some very old friends of mine." Moriarty continues.

"Hello? I can hear you talking. Please help me! I'm on a plane and it's going to crash!" The girl's voice overlaps Moriarty's as the cell's lights flicker from red to white.

"What is this? We can't do this!" Mycroft says irritated.

"Do shut up, dear." Sherlock snaps a little, glancing towards his brother.

"Is someone there?"

"Is this supposed to be a game?" Mycroft questions.

"Be quiet." Sherlock snaps, looking at his brother, as if his brother is hindering his thinking.

"Please help me!" The girl pleads.

"Oh, hello. Um, try- try to stay calm. Just te- tell me what your name is." Sherlock tries to calm the young girl.

"I'm not supposed to tell my name to strangers."

"Of course not. Very good. But, um, I'll tell you mine. My name is..." Sherlock tries to calm the young girl further before suddenly there is a click and static from the speaker. "Hello?"

"Oh dear. We seem to have lost the connection." Eurus appears on the screen smiling as if she was pleased by her game, sitting in the Governor's office.

"How have you done this? How is _any_ of this possible?" Mycroft demands.

"You put me in here, Mycroft. You brought me my treats." Eurus tells Mycroft as he had walked closer to the screen.

"What treats?" John asks Mycroft, furrowing his brow a little at the eldest Holmes, to which Mycroft only turns his head and presses his lips together in silence.

"Clever Eurus! You go, girl!" Moriarty speaks in a fake American accent.

"How can that be Moriarty?" John questions again.

"Oh, he recorded lots of little messages for me before he died." Eurus offers with a joyful tone and smile as she clicks a button and a screen appears at the side of the room. "Loved it. Did you know his brother was a station master? I think he was always jealous." She says offhandedly.

"The girl- where is she? Can I talk to her again?" Sherlock asks.

"Poor little thing. Alone in the sky in a great big plane with nowhere to land. But where in the world is she? It's a clever little puzzle. If you want to apply yourself to it, I can reconnect you; but first..." Eurus sits back in her chair and swings around the camera to face the balcony behind her to show a woman sitting in a chair with handcuffs attached to a seat and tap around her mouth, struggling against her restraints.

"That's my wife." The Governor exclaims, his eyes wide.

"That's my wife!" He repeats, scrambling towards the screen and turning towards Eurus. "Oh, God, that's my wife!"

"I'm going to shoot the Governor's wife."

"Please, no." The Governor gestures vaguely towards Sherlock. "Please. Help her!

"In about a minute." Eurus turns to the camera. "Bang. Dead!" Eurus motions a little as if to shoot the woman.

"_Please_ don't do that." Sherlock asks.

"Well, you _can_ stop me."

"How?" Sherlock questions.

"There's a gun in the hatch. Take it." Eurus instructs.

"You want to save the Governor's wife? Choose either Doctor Watson or Mycroft to kill the Governor." Eurus tells her younger brother after Sherlock walks over to the hatch to reveal the pistol inside.

"Oh... Oh God!" The Governor cries.

"_You_ can't do it, Sherlock. If you do it, it won't count. I'll kill her anyway. It has to be your brother or your friend." Eurus tsks as Sherlock takes a step behind the Governor as if to do it himself, knowing that John was too kind-hearted to do so, and Mycroft too moral in his own right.

"You have to do this." The Governor rounds on Mycroft.

"Eurus _will_ kill her." The Governor insists as Mycroft shakes his head.

"Doesn't appear we have a choice." Sherlock says, tossing the gun in the air a little and catching it by the muzzle.

"Right, then." Eurus smiles, as if amused by the games she is making everyone play.

"Countdown starting." Eurus tells everyone as Sherlock walks towards his brother.

"How long?" Mycroft asks as Sherlock stops a few steps in front of his brother, urging him to take it.

"No, no, no. The countdown is for me." Eurus smiles almost with too much joy.

The Governor stares at Mycroft while both the Holmes brothers are fixed on one another and the gun between them; nearby, John has his head lowered and his eyes closed shut tightly.

"Withholding the precise deadline will apply the emotional pressure more evenly. Where possible, please give me an explicit verbal indication of your anxiety levels." Eurus answers the unasked question. "I can't always read them from your behavior."

"I can't do this." Mycroft breathes. "Can't. It's murder."

"This is not murder. This is saving my wife." The Governor tells Mycroft.

"I'm particularly focused on internal conflicts, where strategizing around a largely intuitive moral code appears to create a counter-intuitive result." Eurus tells everyone, smiling as if the games she playing with people's lives is no more than a simple game of cards.

"I will not kill. I will not have blood on my hands." Mycroft stares down the grip of the gun which Sherlock is holding towards him.

"Yes, very good." Eurus talks as if she is talking to an employee across the office. "Thank you."

"Killing my wife is what you're doing."

"No." Mycroft shakes his head, but his voice is trembling.

"Okay, fine." Sherlock holds his brother's gaze before lowering his eyes and turning away.

"John." Sherlock offers the gun.

John takes a breathe and turns his head to Sherlock as the Governor stares at him, his gaze full of tears.

"Doctor Watson. Are you married?"

"I was." John answers, holding Sherlock's gaze.

"What happened?" The Governor asks.

"She died."

"What would you give to get her back? I mean, if you could, if it was possible?" The Governor asks tearfully. "What would you do to save her?" He asks as both John and Sherlock look at him.

"Eurus _will_ kill me. _Please_ save my wife."

"There will, I'm afraid, be regular prompts to create an atmosphere of urgency." Eurus answers.

"Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick..." Moriarty's voice sounds from the speakers. "Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tock, tick-tock..." His voice continues as the lights flash from red to white.

"What's your name?" John asks as he shuffles forward to take the gun from Sherlock, Sherlock stepping to the side, eyes still on John who only looks at the Governor.

"David."

"And you're sure about this, David?"

"'Course I'm bloody sure." The Governor tells John.

"Nearly there." Eurus sings.

"Right. D'you want to... Pray, or anything?" John asks, nodding a bit shortly.

"With Eurus Holmes in the world, who the hell would I pray to?"

"You are a good man, and you are doing a good thing." John tries to assure.

"So are you."

"I'll spend the rest of my life telling myself that." John mutters.

David smiles anxiously, closing his eyes and takes a deep breath, John turning to Sherlock as if to draw strength or reassurance for himself that playing Eurus' games was the best route to go.

Sherlock steps back a little, pulling his hands behind his back while Mycroft turns away, unwilling to watch; David can't help but jump and gasp a little, shutting his eyes a little, John looking forward with his face set firm, almost a soldier's stance, and his finger set firm against the trigger.

This was all madness, absolute _chaos_, Eurus' games and mind had gone beyond genius, it had gone to a plain where Mycroft was unsure even Sherlock could reach her, although he could certain appreciate the sentiment of Sherlock trying to reach their estranged and deranged younger sibling, one who had perpetrated unspeakable horrors to Sherlock as a child all because of her childish jealousy and inability to connect to humanity and emotions; _sentiment_, several years ago he would have chastised Sherlock for sentiment, yet here he was thinking of sentiment…. Oh, how had things changed.

In the distraction and chaos, Mycroft was left relatively unnoticed, at least for the moment, as Eurus was entertained, if that was even the right word, by Sherlock, John, and the Governor; which, given that, may just give him time, if he could wiggle out his cell phone, he could sent an emergency text to Nora; they both had a line, in case of an emergency they could text one another, in fact, they had an entire cipher they could text one another when one was in situations that talking was not the best of circumstances.

"_Please!_"

John wavers a little, his hand lowering, then his face becoming more determined as he raises his gun again, David raising his hand as if to stop him, then turning around as if resigned to the matter; John turns to Sherlock again as if looking for confirmation, clearly unhappy about shooting a person in the back in execution style.

John turns back to David, hesitating yet again before stepping forward and putting his hand on David's shoulder, patting his shoulder twice, David understanding the message and getting down on his knees, John placing the muzzle of the gun to David's head.

"Oh, God!" John lifts the gun and steps forward, only to put a hand on David's shoulder. "I know that you're scared, but you should also be very proud." John whispers.

"Just do it." The Governor pleads.

"Be quick!"

"Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick." Moriarty whispers as John adjusts his footing and hold on the gun and the lights flicker.

"This is very good, Doctor Watson." Eurus says.

"I should have fitted you with a cardiograph." Eurus offers with a clinical sort of detachment.

"Goodbye, David." John offers quietly.

"Tock-tock-tock-tock-tock-tock-tock tick-tick-tick." Moriarty's words seem to get faster.

_"Please!"_ The Governor pleads desperately.

"I can't." John finally lowers the gun, unable to pull the trigger. "I'm sorry. I can't do it."

"I know. It's all right." Sherlock steps towards John as David falls onto his hands weeping.

"Stop! No, no, stop." John desperately tries to stop David as he snatches the gun from John's hands.

"I'm sorry." The Governor offers tearfully.

"It's all right." Sherlock offers platitudes.

"I'm so sorry." The Governor pushes the tip of the muzzle under his chin. "Remember me."

"No!"

"No!" John yells.

The gunshot echoes in the room, the bullet's shell clinks on the floor, and the blood runs against the wall; the three stopping short once the Governor is dead.

"Are you all right?" Sherlock asks John.

"Interesting." Eurus observes.

"All right, there you go. You got what you wanted..." Sherlock offers sharply as he breathes. "And he's dead."

"Dead or alive..." Eurus spins around in the chair careless. "He really wasn't very interesting, but you three..." She leans closer. "You three were wonderful. Thank you. You see, what you did, Doctor Watson..."

At that, John looks up.

"Specifically because of your moral code..." Eurus trails off again, as if to keep all of them off kilter. "Because you don't want blood on your hands, two people are dead instead of one."

"Two people?" John questions.

"Yes. Sorry, hang on." She momentarily pauses to face the balcony, Eurus lifting a gun, a muzzle shot suddenly being heard.

"Oh!" John gasps, shocked.

Mycroft sighs and turns away, his sister clearly beyond reason and all help, which in part was perhaps his fault, but even then, it was always the road his sister was on, even at five, and moreover, when she killed Sherlock's childhood best friend.

"What advantage did your moral code grant you?" Eurus almost seems to taunt, though her tone remains even.

"You didn't have to kill her!" John yells.

"The condition of her survival was that you or Mycroft had to kill her husband." Eurus tells John, chuckling a little at her game.

"This is an experiment. There _will_ be rigor. Sherlock, pick up the gun. It's your turn next.

"When I tell you to use it- and I will- remember what happened this time." Eurus tells her brother.

"What if I don't _want_ a gun?" Sherlock looks at the pistol.

"Oh, the gun is intended as a mercy." Eurus tells her brother, looking gleeful, as if she has a secret he doesn't know.

"For whom?" Sherlock continues to question.

"You."

"How so?"

"If someone else had to die, would you really want to do it with your bare hands? It would waste valuable time." Eurus answers matter of fact.

"Probably just take it." John finally tells Sherlock.

"There's only one bullet left." Sherlock says looking at the clip.

"You will only _need_ one. But you _will_ need it." Eurus tells her brother as a panel slides away to reveal a narrow passageway.

"Please, go through. There's a few tasks for you, and a girl on a plane is getting very, _very_ scared."

"Treats?" Sherlock pauses to look at Mycroft.

"Yes. You know, a violin." Mycroft answers his brother's question.

"In exchange for...?" Sherlock hedges.

"She's very clever." Mycroft answers vaguely.

"I'm beginning to think you're _not_." Sherlock answers shortly.

"Come on now! Aaaaaalll aboard! Choo-choo! Choo-choo!" Moriarty's voice sounds over the speakers as they walk down the corridor.

**_I'll be late for tea_**. - My

**_Sorry for all the direct transcript work in this chapter. I know it's a bit of a bore. I promise I diverge more and more as we move on._**

**_Also, might I add how disturbing this episode is when you have to read it? I mean MORE disturbing it is when you read it versus watch it._**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	4. Got Your Six

No One's POV

Being married to Mycroft Holmes was _interesting_, to say the least, but it wasn't as if Nora Vivian Thompson, now Thompson-Holmes, wasn't an interesting person herself; granted, she didn't possess a _genius_ level intellect like the Holmes siblings, but she liked to think she wasn't stupid or even an average person.

She didn't get to be one of the top MI6 field agents for her Majesty's Service without hard work and brains, after all; she could speak over eleven languages fluently, possessed a Master's Degree in Criminal Justice and in Psychology, and was a Black Belt in Jujitsu and Krav Maga.

However, as an active MI6 field agent, she was under no delusions that Mycroft may simply get her back in a coffin, with nothing more than a flag and badge to remember her by; her missions often took her into some of the most dangerous parts of the world, or simply had her dealing with some of the most dangerous people in the world, and the guarantee on her life was not always _guaranteed_… Even with her husband's vast power behind him as the British Government, no matter what he tried to deny.

Mycroft, however, he had retired from MI6, and though he oversaw much of their operations, didn't do legwork, as he often reminded her; therefore danger wasn't something he should be in.

Needless to say, when she got his text, and he didn't text much, she was immediately on alert.

**_I'll be late for tea_**. - My

He hated that she called him My. No, he loved it. She knew he did, he rolled his eyes, sighed, and then put up with it, because he was her husband, and behind his Iceman persona for everyone else, she knew he loved her; he was terribly sweet once you got passed it all.

"Fox, we have a situation." Nora punches in the dial combination for a secure line to her team; handpicked all the way from their days at the Academy, the perks of being the best.

"What is it, Phoenix? You know- I'm about to sit down and watch this-"

"Seriously, Foxtrot. Not now… Call the team. We're saving the British Government. Zeus is down."

"Look, I know this is difficult and I know you're being tortured, but you have got to keep it together." John offers in a quiet, but firm voice.

"This isn't torture; this is vivisection. We're experiencing science from the perspective of lab rats." Sherlock replies back, not lifting his head.

"Soldiers?" Sherlock finally breathes, resting his head against the wall behind him to gaze upward, then gazing at his brother who looks concerned.

"Soldiers." John nods, holding out his hand for Sherlock to pull him up from the ground.

"Tick-tock, tickets please!" Moriarty's voice echoes against over the speakers as they pass through another doorway.

"Hey, sis, don't mean to complain but this one's empty. What happened? Did you run out of ideas?" Sherlock asks, the three coming into an empty room that is grey-walled with no windows.

"It's not empty, Sherlock. You've still got the gun, haven't you? I _told_ you you'd need it, because only two can play the next game. Just two of you go on from here; your choice." Eurus smiles into the camera as if excited to reveal the final secret. "It's make-your-mind-up time. Whose help do you need the most- John or Mycroft?"

"It's an elimination round. You choose one and kill the other. You have to choose family or friend. Mycroft or John Watson?" Eurus continues.

"Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick."

"Eurus, enough!" Mycroft yells.

"Not yet, I think." She answers her brother mildly. "But nearly. Remember, there's a plane in the sky, and it's not going to land." At that, she smiles at her trump card.

"Well?" Mycroft rubs his hand over his face and lowers them, stepping forward towards Sherlock.

"Well, what?" Sherlock demands.

"We're not actually going to discuss this, are we?" Mycroft asks, looking at John. "I'm sorry, Doctor Watson. You're a fine man in many respects."

"Make your goodbyes and shoot him." Mycroft turns back to his brother. "_Shoot_ him!" Mycroft points to John and raises his voice.

"What?" John walks a little closer and looks a cross between confused and shocked.

"Shoot Doctor Watson. There's no question who has to continue from here. It's us; you and me. Whatever lies ahead requires brainpower, Sherlock, not sentiment. Don't prolong his agony; shoot him." Of course, Mycroft heard the irony in his own statement, he'd pick Nora any day and over any one person; then again she also was an MI6 agent, so suffice to say, she probably did have a specialized skill set.

"Do I get a say in this?"

"Today, we are soldiers. Soldiers die for their country. I regret, Doctor Watson, that privilege is now yours." Mycroft tells John.

"Shit." John says after a moment, his jaw clenched. "He's right." He turns towards Sherlock.

"He is, in fact, right." John repeats.

"Make it swift. No need to prolong his agony. Get it over with... And we can get to work." Mycroft tells his brother.

John shifts a little before straightening up, bracing himself, but Sherlock only lowers his head and turns away.

"God! I should have expected this. Pathetic. You always _were_ the slow one..." Mycroft scoffs. "The idiot. That's why I've always despised you. You shame us all. You shame the family name. Now, for once in your life, do the right thing." At that he tilts his head towards John. "Put this stupid little man out of all our misery."

"_Shoot_ him."

"Stop it." Sherlock says quietly.

"Look at him. What is he?" Mycroft scoffs.

"Nothing more than a distraction; a little scrap of ordinariness for you to impress, to dazzle with your cleverness. You'll find another."

"Please, for God's sake, just stop it."

"Why?" Mycroft challenges.

"Because, on balance, even your Lady Bracknell was more convincing." Sherlock dolls.

"Ignore everything he just said. He's being kind. He's trying to make it easy for me to kill him." Sherlock tells John, as Mycroft blinks and lifts his head, a little disappointed that Sherlock had figured out his plan. "Which is why this is going to be so much harder."

"You said you _liked_ my Lady Bracknell." Mycroft smiles a little.

"Sherlock. Don't." John whispers.

"It's not your decision, Doctor Watson." Mycroft tells John, glancing at him only briefly; his only singular regret, besides this whole fiasco with his sister, was not telling his wife he loved her one last time, he didn't do it nearly as much as he should, feeling were difficult for him, but he did love her, more than he imagined he would have ever loved her or anyone. "Not in the face, though, please. I've promised my brain to the Royal Society."

"Where would you suggest?"

"Well… I suppose there is a heart _somewhere_ inside me." Mycroft tells his brother, doing up his suit and fixing his tie unnecessarily._ "_I don't imagine it's much of a target but... Why don't we try for that?"

"I won't allow this." John whispers.

"This is my fault." Mycroft admits. "Moriarty."

"Moriarty?"

"Her Christmas treat: five minutes' conversation with Jim Moriarty five years ago." Mycroft explains. "She- helped… With stopping some cases. The government… My bosses thought it was worth the risk to ask her for consultation. I thought it was worth it."

"What did they discuss?" Sherlock asks.

"Five minutes' conversation…" Mycroft pauses. "Unsupervised."

"Goodbye, brother mine. No flowers... By request." Mycroft says simply, folding his hands behind his back.

"Jim Moriarty thought you'd make this choice. He was _so_ excited." Eurus speaks into the camera.

"And here we are, at the end of the line. Holmes killing Holmes." Moriarty appears again on the screen. "This is where I get off." Moriarty smiles before the screen fritzes out and the lights flicker back from red to white.

"Five minutes. It took her just _five minutes_ to do all of this to us." Sherlock grits his teeth.

"Foxtrot, are we a go to breach?" Nora asks, her team at the East entrance to Sherrinford.

"Phoenix we are a go." Adam, also known as code name, Foxtrot or "Fox", calls over the coms.

"Cut the power… Go, go, go! We're breaching!" Nora calls into her coms as the base goes black and the screen cuts out in Governor's office where Eurus was.

"Whiskey, do you have my six?" Nora asks.

"Got your six, Phoenix." Will calls as the doors blast open and the flash bangs erupt around the MI6 team.

"Bravo Team, are you in?" Phoenix calls out.

"Bravo Team has breached Sherrinford, Phoenix." Alex, her code name Juliette (call me "Jules", she will promptly demand), calls out.

"Any hostiles?" Nora calls out as she, Whiskey, and Sierra weave through a narrow corridor to the East of Sherrinford.

"Negative, Phoenix. None so far. We're on our way to your end of the compound. No sign of Eurus Holmes. We're seeing three heat signatures in a room 700 meters to your Northeast quarter."

"Copy. Let's make this a clean and cut mission. Maybe we'll be home for dinner and binge watching tv… Maybe even tea. Now, let's rescue the British Government."

"_Copy_, Phoenix."

"Well, not on my-" Sherlock begins to say when bangs erupt in the room and a wall falls through.

"This is all a terrible doom and gloom… And, I hate to interrupt… But, I think it's time for us to all go." Nora bursts into the room with her team.

"Phoenix, what impeccable timing." Mycroft offers, straightening up as the rubble settles around him.

"Hello, Mr. Holmes." Nora nods slightly, her infrared and night goggles pulled up to sit on her helmet.

"Whiskey, Sierra, get Zeus." Nora orders. "Jules, on their six."

"Fox, get Mr. Watson." Nora rapidly orders, pulling down her goggles to prepare to move.

"Phoenix-" Mycroft goes to say.

"You know, I always thought Sherlock was the trouble maker, Mycroft. With all the running around London and whatnot… Solving crimes…" Nora scoffs. "Zulu, get Sherlock. I got your six. And I'll do the final sweep. Let's move it!" She orders with a bark. "MOVE! MOVE! _MOVE!_"

Suddenly, the base lights go back on, the hum of what sounds like a backup generator kicking on.

"Naughty, naughty, dear brother… You've been _very_ naughty." Eurus' voice echoes over the speaker. "You've brought back up… You weren't playing by the rules… I'll have to punish you."

"Fox!" Nora yells over the coms. "What happened to our cover?"

"I don't know, Phoenix!" Fox yells back. "I thought I cut the back up!"

"Whiskey, Sierra, Jules, get Zeus out of here! Now!" Phoenix yells, her gun out as she flips her vision from night to day vision and does a sweep behind her teammate Zulu.

Her vision went black nearly a moment later as a dart stuck her in the back of the neck.


	5. Phoenix Down

No One's POV

"Phoenix, do you copy? Phoenix, we've got Zeus secure. Do you copy?" Whiskey calls out through the coms. "Phoenix? Repeat, _do you copy?_"

"What's going on?" Mycroft demands as he's loaded into one of the choppers that the MI6 team his wife leads has. "Where is Phoenix?"

"Sir, if you could just-" Sierra tries to calm Mycroft down.

"Don't _sir_ me!" Mycroft waves off Jonathan's hand. "I want to know where Phoenix is! She's- just- where is she!"

"We're trying to find out, sir." Sierra promises.

"Phoenix, do you copy? Phoenix, do you read? Come in, Phoenix." Whiskey continues to com in with no success.

"_Where is my wife!?_" Mycroft finally screeches.

"Phoenix is down. I repeat, Phoenix is down." Whiskey answers. "Fox and Zulu are evacing another way… Jules, let's get going. Eurus has Phoenix. Unclear about John or Sherlock… We need to get the package off of Sherrinford."

"What!?" Mycroft looks enraged. "What do you mean- You can't _leave!_ You take me back to Sherrinford this _instant!_ I am your boss!" Mycroft is a mix between absolute rage and hysterics, his face a dangerous looking red, and his temple throbbing a little.

"With all due respect, _sir_…" Sierra answers. "Between you and your wife… Phoenix is a damn sight scarier…"

"Hello?" The young girl from before asks. "Hello? Are you still there?" She asks again.

"Yes. Yeah; no, I'm-I'm still here. I'm here." Sherlock answers, clearly disoriented as he wakes up.

"You went away. You said you'd help me and you went away."

"Yes, I know. Well, I'm sorry about that. We- we- we must have got cut off. Um…" Sherlock replies, still attempting to get his bearings as he looks around. "How- how- how long was I away?"

"Hours. Hours and hours. Why don't grown-ups tell the truth?"

"No, I- I _am_ telling the truth. You can trust me." Sherlock promises.

"Where did you go?"

"I'm not completely sure." Sherlock answers truthfully. "Um, now, I tell you what. You- you've got to be really, really brave for me." Sherlock looks around at the room, picking up the lantern from the floor and walking around the room to inspect it. "Can you go to the front of the plane? Can you do that?"

"The front?"

"Yes." He answers, now the lantern showing many pictures of himself stuck to the wall. "That's right; the front."

"You mean where the driver is?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Okay. I'm going."

"Are you there yet?" Sherlock asks, attempting to talk to the young girl.

"Yeah, I'm here." John replies instead, jerking awake suddenly, knocking into a wall and into someone else.

"John!" Sherlock replies sharply.

"Yeah." John replies bewildered, quickly looking around and checking on the woman he had seen earlier when her and her team had breached Sherrinford to rescued Mycroft; one of Mycroft's MI6 teams obviously, from the familiarity of the way they interacted with the elder Holmes.

"Where are you?"

"I don't know. I've just woken up. Where are you?" John responds to Sherlock when he's discovered nothing but darkness and that he's standing in water up to his waist.

"I'm in another cell. I just spoke to the girl on the plane again. We've been out for hours."

"What, she's still up there?" John asks, clearly surprised.

"Yes. The plane will keep flying until it runs out of fuel."

"Is Mycroft with you?"

"I have no idea. I can hardly see anything." John looks around as if to confirm he's stuck in a dark hole. "Mycroft? Mycroft?"

"Are _you_ okay?" Sherlock wonders, running a hand over his face.

"Yeah."

"All right. Well, just keep exploring. Tell me anything you can about where you are." Sherlock instructs, walking around the room he's in and looking at the photos.

"The walls are rough…" John tells Sherlock, feeling the rough texture. "They're rock, I guess. There's a woman here with me. The same one who came and rescued us. Phoenix, I believe your brother said."

"What? Why would-" Sherlock pauses, clearly not expecting that answer. "Is she awake?"

"Not quite. She's coming to."

"I don't understand… I mean, she must be important to my brother then? Or in the wrong place…" Sherlock struggles to deduce.

"Perhaps. She did rescue us." John supplies an explanation. "Maybe your sister is angry for that."

"Maybe. She wants us to play her game, after all… What are you standing on?

"Uh, stone, I think. But listen: there's about two feet of water." John is caught by the sudden switch of topic, lifting his feet slightly only to feel resistance. "Chains. Yeah, my feet are chained up. I can feel something."

"And… Bones, Sherlock. There are bones in here."

"What kind of bones?"

"Uh, I dunno. S- small." John guesses, a little shaken from what he had found.

"Redbeard." Sherlock whispers, holding up what looked like a dog's water bowl.

If Nora had to rank her top ten kidnappings, this would not be one of them; okay, as far as _originality_, maybe, but as far as pleasant, definitely _not_.

But, as it were, her she was standing in water, most likely which was dirty, filled with bacteria, and _who_ _knows_ what else, and also chained up and crammed in a dark hole with someone else; that was exactly how she wanted to spend her night, _obviously_… And, all because of her husband's psycho younger sister.

Mycroft owed her a bubble bath and dinner… And, maybe even a new car. But definitely a trip for the two of them. Away from all this chaos.

"Well?" Mycroft taps his foot impatiently as his wife's MI6 team works on their laptops and equipment from the halls of the SIS Headquarters. "Have you found her?"

"We're working on it, sir."

"Well, work faster!" Mycroft demands. "Phoenix assures me you are the best. But all I see is utter _incompetence!_"

"If I were Eurus I would-" Mycroft pauses with sudden dawning. "_Musgrave Hall_." Mycroft spins back to look at the team. "She took them to Musgrave Hall… My family's old home." Clearly his mind wasn't working in this state, it had taken far too long to think of that.

"Musgrave Hall, sir?" Whiskey asks.

"Yes, take the team to Musgrave Hall." Mycroft orders.

"Anthea." Mycroft calls. "Assemble the Gamma and Delta MI6 teams. They are needed at Musgraves Hall, Newport, Wales. _Immediately_. Security status, **_Ultra_**. MI6 team Alpha is already enroute."

"Who's Redbeard?" The young girl asks.

"Oh, hello. Are you at the front of the plane now?" Sherlock suddenly jolts out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. I still can't wake the driver up."

"That's all right. What can you see now?" Sherlock asks.

"I can see a river. And there's- there's- there's a big wheel."

"All right. Well, you and I are going to have to drive this plane together." Sherlock calms. "Just you and me."

"We are?"

"Yeah, there's nothing to it. We just need to get in touch with some people on the ground." Sherlock assures, picking up the lantern he dropped. "Now, um, can you see anything that looks like a radio?"

"No." The girl answers, looking up at all the lights, switches, and buttons.

"That's all right. Well, we... Keep looking. We've got plenty of time."

"What's wrong?

"The whole plane's shaking." The girl cries as the plane sounds alarms.

"It's just turbulence. It's nothing to worry about." Sherlock tries to calm the girl.

"My ears hurt."

"Does the river look like it's getting closer?" Sherlock questions.

"A- a little bit."

"All right, then. That means you're nearly home."

"Sherlock?" John questions.

"What's going on? It's John, right? Captain Watson?" Nora asks, although she knows the answer, however, she couldn't hear whatever was happening between John and whoever he was conversing with.

"Yes. And your name is Phoenix?"

"Code name. I'd say it's nice to meet you… But- we're stuck in a well and half drowned in water…" Nora quips, offering her hand even with the tight space. "So, what's going on? Catch me up, Captain Watson."

"That about sums it up… We're in a bottom of a well…" John offers.

"Why would there be a well in Sherrinford?" Sherlock asks. "Why is there a drought?"

"Walls don't contract after you've painted them." He continues, his gaze looking at a small gap between the wall and the floor. "Not real ones."

"I'm home. Musgrave Hall." Sherlock looks around, the dust of the wall falling settling around him.

"Me and Jim Moriarty, we got on like a house on fire…" Eurus taunts a little. "Which reminded me of home."

"Yeah, it's just an old building. I don't care. The plane; tell me about the plane _NOW!" _Sherlock demands.

"Sweet Jim. He was never very interested in being alive, especially if he could make more trouble being dead."

"Yeah, still not interested. The _plane!_" Sherlock yells as he stumbles about his old home.

"You _knew_ he'd take his revenge. His revenge apparently is _me_."

"Eurus, let me speak to the little girl on the plane and I'll play any game you like."

"First find Redbeard." Eurus answers instead. "I'm letting the water in now. You don't want me to drown another one of your pets, do you? Or worse, the only thing our dear older brother cares about… At long last, Sherlock Holmes, it's time to solve the Musgrave ritual."

"Your very first case! And the final problem. Oh. Bye-bye." Eurus whispers.

"Sherlock?" John questions.

"Oh, shit…" Nora exclaims, hearing the sudden rush of water begin to pour. "I'm _really_ going to make him-"

"Okay, okay…" Nora looks around, patting down her pockets, her helmet had been taken off, but it seemed like she had been practically tossed into the well with most other things on her, or at the very least patted down less than thoroughly; maybe Eurus didn't see her as a threat, which was a mistake on her part, she was no damsel in distress. "Take this." Nora shoves a small pocket knife at John.

"What?" John asks.

"It's a _knife_, John. I'm sure you're familiar with the object. Can you get it in one of the locks?" Nora asks.

"Yes, I'm-" John objects.

"Good. Well, in a few moments we're about to be _drowned_ in a few gallons of water. So, if you'd like to _survive_. Stick it in one of the locks." Nora instructs with a huff and eye roll.

"Right." John answers, shifting and bumping up against her until he's somehow gotten his own ankle up to try and wedge the small pocket knife into the lock, it twisting free after a few clicks and turns.

"Got it!"

"Good. Now do mine." Nora lifts her own ankle for John to get to.

"Alright… Now, it's time to get out of this." Nora looks up at the grate that covers the well and the climb they had to do.

"What do you suggest, Phoenix?"

"Together. Back to back." Nora nods, offering her arms to link to his.

"Together it is." John nods, tossing the small ear piece into the water, drowning it, before linking arms with Phoenix.

"Need a hand, Phoenix?" Whiskey's voice echoes over the rapidly filling well.

"You're such an _asshole_ sometimes, Whiskey." Nora sighs, looking up and squinting at the bright light shining down from Will's night goggles.

"Phoenix has risen. I repeat, Phoenix has risen. Southeastern corner of Musgrave Hall." Whiskey calls in his coms. "We'll get you out, Phoenix. It's good to see you back. Your husband went a little crazy."

"_Husband!?_" John yelps, nearly losing his grip he had as both he and Nora balanced against one another to climb up the well's side.

**_Let's just be reminded... I know absolutely NOTHING about Black Ops teams... All I know is what I've seen on various tv shows. I looked a few things up. But, nothing that would actually be very useful is online. Obviously, SEAL Teams don't give their tricks away._**

**_Reviews are lovely!_**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	6. I Got You

No One's POV

"Husband?" John continues to sputter as both he and Nora are pulled out of the well, both soaking wet.

"Yes, John. Husband. Mycroft is my husband. Which, I'm guessing… Eurus Holmes, a genius and psycho maniac, deduced within moments of our interactions, despite our efforts to the contrary." Nora answers John evenly.

"But- how… I mean…" John continues to look dumbfounded at the prospect that the illustrious and mysterious Mycroft Holmes was _married_.

"Since 2008. So, nearly eight years." Nora answers; the truth was out now, what was one more thing?

"_Phoenix_." Mycroft strides up to his wife, his strides purposeful and quick, and every one meant to be powerful and meaningful.

"Hello Mr. Holmes." Nora looks up at her husband with a teasing glint. "I heard you were worried… Dare I say, _hysterical_, on my behalf?"

"I was nothing of the sort." Mycroft offers primly, but his arms wind around his wife nonetheless, holding her to his chest, damp towel and all, uncaring that he was getting his hundreds of dollars suit slightly wet.

"He was." Whiskey adds in, smirking at the pair.

"The peanut gallery is not necessary nor appreciated." Mycroft glares at Will.

"Don't worry, I think it's sweet. _Although_… You know, my team is more than sufficient. I don't think three MI6 teams is needed. _Honestly_, My. Don't you think this is a little overkill?"

"My sister is deranged at the best of days and at _worst_ a psychotic killer with absolutely no scruples at killing." Mycroft answers.

"True. And, on _that_ note… You owe me a bubble bath and dinner. And possibly a new car. And _definitely_ a vacation." Nora tells Mycroft, pointing a finger at his chest.

"I do, do I? Even after coming to your rescue?"

"_Excuse you!? _I saved myself. You most certainly _did_ not save me. Besides, I saved your sorry ass _first_." Nora looks at her husband, brow raised in disbelief. "Besides, it's not _me_ who has a crazy, psycho sibling trying to _kill_ them and everyone they love and care about!" At that, Whiskey and the rest of her team attempts to cover up their snickers, badly, Nora notes.

"Of course, dear. You make a fair point." Mycroft replies, pressing a small kiss to Nora's crown. "I don't know what I would have done if I had lost you."

"I'm fine, My. I'm right here. We can go home now." Nora answers. "Put this dreadful incident all behind us."

"Yes, home." Mycroft agrees, gesturing to a few MI6 agents. "Let us go home."

"I do love it when you take charge." Nora teases a little, hooking her arms around Mycroft's neck and kissing him on the cheek. "Are you going to carry me like a damsel in distress? My big hero."

"I could… Be _persuaded_." Mycroft offers.

"Well then…" Nora trails off, leaning up to whisper into her husband's ear, only to break off in a laugh as Mycroft sweeps her into his arms and promptly turns towards the waiting helicopter.

"Guess we're debriefing tomorrow." Whiskey mutters.

"Unless you want to interrupt Phoenix and the British Government?"

"Better leave it till tomorrow." The Alpha MI6 team, also aptly code named the _War Dogs_, agrees with a look at one another.

"Sherlock? The bones I found… Mycroft's been lying to you; to both of us." John tells Sherlock. "They're not dog's bones, are they?"

"No." Sherlock mutters softly. "They're Victor Trevor's." He mutters even softer.

"We played pirates. I was Yellowbeard and he was... Redbeard." Sherlock speaks, seemingly still lost in the memories of his childhood that he had suppressed and rewritten due to the trauma of Eurus killing his childhood best friend. "My sister… _Killed_ him."

"I'm sorry, Sherlock." John places a hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Where's my brother?" Sherlock asks instead.

"Taking off in the helicopter… With his wife." John answers, gesturing to the helicopter already in the sky, and taking the diversion for what it was; Sherlock never was one for sentiment, like Mycroft, or so John had always thought. "That was the girl, the one who was with me, Phoenix."

"What? What are you talking about, John? Don't talk _nonsense_. Mycroft doesn't have a _wife_." Sherlock looks at John like he was crazy and his brain couldn't quite compute what his best friend had said.

"Yes, he does. I met her. And, I've got to say. She's pretty impressive." John adds. "Had Mycroft wrangled in moments... Never thought I'd see the day." John chuckles.

"No, no. My brother is not _married_, John. The water must have gotten in your brain. I would have known this." Sherlock shakes his head, clearly denying this.

"_Sherlock_." John turns to face his friend. "I'm not lying. I heard it straight from the woman herself. They're married. For eight years. And Mycroft didn't deny it. And he certainly cared for her. So it seemed."

"We're going to Mycroft's mansion, John."

**_Nora is played by Lyndsy Fonseca. She was on the TV Show Nikita._**


	7. Best Kept Secrets

No One's POV

"Sherlock, John… What an- _unpleasant_ surprise… At least you used the front door this time." Mycroft greets his younger brother and his companion, his tone flat and clearly telling them both he was less than pleasant to seem them both; he had better things to be doing at the moment, like pampering his wife and possibly that _reward_ she was talking about earlier for his heroics, despite her arguing she had all but saved herself. "I would have thought you would have retired for the night."

"I'm here to prove John wrong about his ridiculous theory that you have a-"

"Wife?" Mycroft guesses. "Well, suffice to say, John is right. A _rarity_ for sure. But, in this case. It is you, brother, who is wrong."

Sherlock was rendered speechless for once in a lifetime, staring at his brother as if he saw a stranger.

"My, who is it?" Nora asks, although she could take a guess at who was at the door; this time it didn't take a genius mind or the powers of deduction.

"My brother and his friend." Mycroft answers flatly.

"Oh." Nora walks up behind her husband, her robe wrapped around her. "Well, aren't you going to let them in?"

"I'm not inclined to, no." Mycroft answers, his jaw ticking a little. Would it be terribly improper of him to slam the door in their faces? It was his house after all.

"Be nice. It's been a night. I'll put on the tea."

"Very well, dear. If I must." Mycroft grits his teeth and opens the door wider to let his brother and friend inside his house.

"You must." Nora answers back, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"_You're married_." Sherlock repeats, his tone absolutely bewildered, brain too stunned to deduce anything. "Am I hallucinating? Have you _bribed_ the poor woman?"

"Yes, I am married, Sherlock. Eight years, now. I know this must seem all very impossible to you. Despite my reputation, I am not a complete robot or iceman, brother." Mycroft sighs almost imperceptibly. "And I have not bribed her. I have morals. We are in love."

"_Love?_" Sherlock echoes, staring at his elder brother with even more astonishment.

"Are you just going to echo everything I say?"

"I'm in shock." Sherlock tells his brother.

"_Obviously_." Mycroft answers. "Don't be a goldfish, Sherlock. _Think_. Nora is my best kept secret. Even from you. Nora is an MI6 agent. One of the best. And, if that were compromised…"

"Eurus knows now." Sherlock points out.

"Yes." Mycroft nods with a frown. "Which is why Phoenix has been put on a higher security clearance as of tonight."

"What? And when were you going to tell _me_ that?" Nora demands, walking into the parlor with a tray of tea and light finger foods.

"During debriefing." Mycroft answers.

"Uh-huh…" Nora looks at her husband with disbelief. "So what security clearance?"

"Ultra."

"_ULTRA!?_" Nora shrieks at her husband. "What in the Queen's name!? _Unless_ I'm the _bloody_ **Queen** of England! Are you expecting me to go on active missions with that clearance? How can you expect me to do that with a team of agents following _me!?_ You _change_ that back right now, Mycroft Holmes!"

"_No_." Mycroft answers evenly; yet not without some trepidation, his wife was a force of nature, stubborn to a fault, and fiery in temper, all things he admired about her, _except_ when they turned against him.

"Then you can sleep on the couch until that answer is different." Nora glares at her husband, spinning on her heels to march up to the master bedroom, the door slamming shut and echoing down the hall a moment later.

"Oh, I _like_ her, Mycroft." Sherlock looks at his brother smugly. "And, she's not wrong. With a clearance and security level like yours, it will severely hinder her field work."

"Did she just tell the British Government to fuck off?" John questions, watching the exchange a little shell shocked.

"Your remarks are not necessary, Sherlock." Mycroft glares at his brother.

"_And_, we'll just show ourselves out…" John ushers Sherlock back towards the front door. "Have a good night, Mycroft."

"Well, no rewards for me tonight…" Mycroft mutters to himself as he cleans up the tea tray and arms the alarm system for the house for the night.

"_Alive!?_ For all these years?" Mrs. Holmes screeches, her tone raising in tone as she yells at her eldest son, her husband sitting in front of Mycroft's desk, while Sherlock leans against the office door, remaining silent. "How is that even _possible_!?"

"What Uncle Rudy began... I thought it best to continue."

"I'm not asking how you did it, idiot boy, I'm asking how _could_ you?" Mrs. Holmes continues to yell.

"I was trying to be kind." Mycroft answers his mother honestly, feeling much like a young child being chastised; he did _not_ need this, not with last night or the day he was already having.

"Kind!?" Mrs. Holmes gasps almost offended. "_Kind?_ You told us that our daughter was _dead_."

"Better that than tell you what she had become." Mycroft offers his own defense. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever she became, whatever she is now, Mycroft..." Mr. Holmes now speaks.

"She remains our daughter." Mrs. Holmes answers firmly as if Eurus' murders were of no consequence.

"And my sister." Mycroft reminds his parents, as if that shouldn't be obviously; it wasn't as if he didn't care, of course he cared about his siblings, even if it didn't seem like he did.

"Then you should have done _better_." Mrs. Holmes chastises again in a loud voice, puffing up like a peacock, again seemingly sweeping Eurus' crimes under the metaphorical rug at the wake of finding the truth about their daughter being alive.

"Couldn't help but over hearing…" Nora opens the door to Mycroft's office. "Thin walls and all…" She makes a motion. "But Mycroft _did_ his best. His best for society as a _whole_. And his best _was_ enough. You _darling,_ little _baby girl_, is a **_psychopath_**. She _murdered_ several people without care and will do so _without_ thought and given opportunity. She has no compass, no morals. Moreover, she managed to convince the _entire_ Sherrinford Psychiatric Prison to follow her orders or commit murders on her behalf… So, if you believe her to be your daughter. Then, you're _dangerously_ deluded yourselves. Or, do you think that setting a psychopath and murder on society is the right thing? Do you think you could simply _love_ her enough to change her? To set her on the _right_ path?" Nora challenges.

"And _just_ **_who_** do you think you are?" Mrs. Holmes demands, puffing up even more.

"Nora Thompson-Holmes, Mycroft's wife, MI6 agent, **_and_** also a woman your _darling,_ little angel, _kidnapped_ and wanted to _kill_. All because Mycroft _dared_ to **care** for someone." Nora answers evenly. "All your _precious_ daughter deserves is a _box_ in the _deepest hole_ possible. You don't set murderers and serial killers free, you lock them up. And _that_, is what your daughter is. I would suggest you make peace with it."

"Now, Mycroft. I want lunch. Somewhere nice." Nora demands, offering her hand.

"Yes, of course, dear." Mycroft answers promptly, rising from his desk and grabbing his jacket, and knowing best not to argue with her in this state; he'd done it before and it hadn't ended well for him. "Mother, Father. If you'll excuse me. My wife and I have lunch to attend to."

**_One of the biggest issues I had with the Final Problem was the Holmes' parents and how they treated Mycroft. I get that they were upset with being lied to. I would be angry too. They grieved over a daughter who they believed died... But that's where it ends._**

**_HOWEVER, Mycroft says himself "Eurus was able to reprogram people at age 5" if he knew that, surely the parents did? And she was coloring pictures of Sherlock dying... That's not disturbing at all... USUALLY when parents see their kids coloring pictures of death and murder... Let alone of ANOTHER one of their KIDS! They get concerned. But, apparently that was NO BIG DEAL to the Holmes? Eurus would have been EXTREMELY young when doing that._**

**_So, to yell at Mycroft and basically say "no biggie, she's still are baby girl" I can't comprehend. What do they expect? They can just take her home and love her? Murderers get tried, they get sentenced, and then they get put in prison, or in some cases, the death penalty (if that's a thing in a particular state or country)._**

**_I understand Sherlock... To some degree. At least, more than his parents. He's a genius mind who doesn't connect well to society like Eurus either. Mycroft obviously doesn't support him much, at least openly. So, I CAN see why he'd seek his sister out (in that sense). BUT, after the games she forced him to play, particularly after almost forcing him to kill his best friend and brother... I don't understand him wanting anything to do with her either. YET, he does?_**

**_And, this is my rant about the Final Problem... And, why I have FEELINGS about s4. I have more..._**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	8. Lunch Date

No One's POV

"Mmm. I _love_ their food." Nora hums contently, placing another bite into her mouth.

"You say that every time we come here." Mycroft points out as he bites into his own food.

"Well, because it's true. And we don't come here often enough." Nora tells her husband, taking another bite and sipping on her wine.

"So, how is work today? Start any wars? End any?" Nora asks, a playful smile on her lips.

"I thought you were still angry at me?" Mycroft looks at Nora a bit confused; he was unaccustomed to being confused, everyone was so simple and easy to read, but Nora often left him confused, it helped that she was an MI6 agent and played many roles in her job, but it was more than that, she kept him on his toes. Also, she told him once that if he tried to ever deduct her like the first time he did in his office or the first year of their marriage, she'd shoot him; he took that threat seriously, because she _had_ shot him, just to prove a point.

"I thought about it… You're still sleeping on the couch if that's what you're asking. At least until you lift the security clearance. But, I'm not above talking to you. Asking about work… Or a free lunch." Nora sasses, smiling behind her wine glass.

Mycroft studies his wife for another moment before huffing a slight laugh.

"You're not lifting the security clearance, are you?"

"It's for your safety, Firebird."

"Safety, _my ass_." Nora mutters with an eye roll. "Now you've just gone from OCD to paranoid, My." She huffs a little.

"I think you should retire." Mycroft finally tells his wife after another long moment of silence; he had been contemplating it ever since they stepped into his private car from the Diogenes Club.

"_Excuse you?_" Nora drops her fork and pauses from taking a sip from her glass. "Did I hear you right? You want me to- to _retire!?" _Her voice tone rises at the end telling Mycroft he should have immediately retracted his statement the moment he said it... Or, not said it at all.

"Yes." Mycroft answers evenly.

"Alright, now I _know_ you're paranoid." Nora tells her husband. "And this- this is all just because your crazy, psycho sister took me! You're letting fear control you! I deal with dangerous situations all the time. I have a _team_ behind me. Or, I have back up… And you knew **_all_** this when you married me. It didn't stop you or bother you then! No- just _no!_ I know I'm not some young kid straight from the Academy, but I'm not _that_ old. I'm several years younger than you, need I remind you, _Alexander Mycroft Chad Holmes!_ And _certainly_ have a few years left."

"Let's be reasonable, Nora-"

"Yes, let's, Mycroft… _No_, I'm not retiring." Nora glares at her husband. "The only _possible_ way I'd be retiring right now, is if I was pregnant. And _you_ were the one that didn't want children. In fact, you were _explicit_ about that, as I remember correctly. I might not have a perfect memory like you, but I _do_ remember that."

"Firebird-" Mycroft tries to appease his clearly very angry wife, even using her nickname he had given her, Firebird, while he couldn't use her code name in public, Firebird was similar enough.

"No, I think I'm done here. I'm going to take a taxi to my flat. Don't bother coming after me." Nora stands up and places her napkin on the table; she had kept her flat she had when she was single, it was one of the ways they had kept _her_ a secret.

"I'm sor-" Mycroft goes to apologize as he stands with his wife.

"No you're not." Nora cuts him off yet again. "Don't apologize when I know you're not, Mycroft. You meant every word you said. You never say anything you don't mean... I'm going to leave now."

"Take my car at least. It will make me feel better that you're safe. Please."

"Fine." Nora accepts. "Thank you."

Mycroft simply nods and watches his wife stalk out of the restaurant.


	9. Playing for Keeps

No One's POV

Mycroft watched as his furious wife stalked out of the restaurant away from him; while he didn't often take time to let his mind wander to sentiment or emotions, he admired how, even angry, his wife was a picture of beauty and grace, her form a perfect picture of composition, form, proportion, and lethal skill all wrapped up in one person.

Nora, of course, would call him silly or ridiculous at his rationalization and logic, if he brought it up, but he saw the world in much more black and white terms, in much more logical and rational views than she did.

Mycroft had been a man of strict routine and order for over three decades that was until he met one MI6 Agent Nora Vivian Thompson; it took one Inauguration Ball and his life was changed. Of course, he didn't exactly know that, but it was.

From that point on, the moment he signed on the line of a single piece of paper, their lives were merged; at one point, wasn't sure if he regretted his decision to save face instead of tell people it was a lie.

She forced him to bend, to change, to adapt, instead of remaining rigid and unmoving to the world and things around him.

Now, he couldn't think of a world where Nora Vivian Thompson-Holmes didn't exist within it.

The incident at Sherrinford Psychiatric Prison also changed things for him, most notably, showing him how exposed his wife was; but she was unwilling to change or hear him out.

He would prefer for her to retire and for her to take his advice, but clearly that wasn't going to happen simply because he asked. Granted, he could have brought it up at a time when she was less mad at him because of the security clearance, but Mycroft was never one to hold back his opinions or thoughts; it got him in trouble with Nora more often than not.

His earlier words in their marriage were coming to bite him in his ass now; he was unaccustomed to that.

However, he was a genius, so _surely_ he could solve this small little issue and win back his wife who no doubt, would still be angry at him by the time he came home… If she was at home instead of her flat.

Well, these were all just small things on the way to his desired objective. He was Mycroft Holmes, the British Government, there wasn't anything he couldn't puzzle out given time.

"Not… That I'm complaining… Or anything." Nora tells Mycroft a little breathless, resting her head on her husband's bare chest. "But, what's with- all of _this?_" She gestures to their room, and the rose petals scattered around the room, the wine, and delicious dinner, and evidentially the mind blowing sex they just had.

"Can I not spoil my wife?" Mycroft asks innocently, his hand trailing along her spine; he always was much more physical and cuddlier in bed, really the only time he showed her a normal amount of affection, but Nora didn't mind, she had learned that quickly after moving into his room with him in the previous years of their marriage.

"Yes... But, something _is_ up with you the last few weeks…" Nora narrows her eyes at her husband. "And, I _will_ figure it out. I _am_ a secret agent after all. Call it a skill set." She points her finger at her husband. "This isn't normal for you. But, I suppose you _did_ owe me dinner." Nora teases, turning her head so her chin rests on his chest instead.

"Oh? What for?" Mycroft raises a brow, however, a little relieved his wife seemed to move on from the topic of his romantic overtures; while it was true that he did enjoy spoiling his wife, and probably didn't do it enough, he did have, sort of ulterior motives for them.

"For the whole kidnapping fiasco." Nora taps her fingers on his chest.

"And the new car didn't make up for that? Should I buy you an island?"

"Hmmm…" Nora hums, making a thoughtful look with her face. "This much." She holds her fingers apart about an inch before laughing. "And maybe… Can it be in the Bahamas?"

"Your humor never ceases to astound me." Mycroft answers.

"Well, isn't that a _good_ thing? I'm not a genius like you. I have to keep you interested _somehow_." Nora quips.

"You don't need to keep me interested, Firebird." Mycroft tells his wife, rolling them over suddenly, his weight shifting over her abruptly. "I _am_ interested."

"Oh? How interested?" Nora smirks.

"_Very_."

**_The chapter in which Mycroft thinks of a plan that will most like (read: definitely), blow up in his face..._**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	10. Spies & Missions

No One's POV

"Did you really have to sneak out of your own house?" Will asks his team leader, Nora.

"Don't look at me like that… Zeus has security on high alert. He put me on security code: **_Ultra!_** I have my own damn MI6 team on me! Ever since the Sherrinford Incident." Nora sighs with an eye roll. "It's absolutely _ridiculous_. I feel like a high schooler being scolded by their parent."

"He's just worried." Jonathan pipes in, but he has a wife and kids of his own to look after; one of the only few on the War Dog team to have a family outside.

"Don't take his side, Sierra." Nora glares at her teammate.

"But completely wrong, of course…" Jonathan holds up his hands.

"I thought so…" Nora looks satisfied. "Coms in and online guys. We're about to enter the blackout zone."

"He's gonna flip when he figures out you're gone." Jules offers.

"He'll live. It's not like he doesn't have access to our files." Nora scoffs as she checks her clips and gun. "Everyone locked and loaded?"

"Copy that, Phoenix."

"So, just to clarify… You're _not_ retiring?" Nick, code name Zulu, asks.

"_Hell no._" Phoenix shakes her head. "You can pry this team from my cold dead hands."

"Good. Because breaking in a team leader is such a _pain_." Will punches Nora good natured in the shoulder.

"As I've said before, you're such an _asshole_, Whiskey… And need I remind you, I picked all of you when I got promoted as Alpha leader." Nora scoffs. "Alright, everyone know their positions?"

"Copy, copy, Phoenix."

"Alright, let's move out!" Phoenix orders as the helicopter door opens and they jump into the dark of the night.

"Hello Nora… How nice to see you…" Mycroft offers pleasantries to his wife after four days of a black out, her MI6 in a communications black out on their mission, and now just coming back to the SIS Headquarters.

"Are you mad?"

"Am I mad? Is that even a question, Nora? You _snuck_ out of the house and took a _level 5_ classified mission with your Alpha Team." Mycroft deadpans.

"Well, I wouldn't have to do that if you just dropped the Ultra security level." Nora offers innocently.

"_Nora_." Mycroft breathes in through his nose; she couldn't comprehend the constant _worry_ he had for her when she was gone.

In the beginning of their marriage it was tolerable, before Sherrinford it was under control by him simply being in the position to oversee her mission reports or see her status at any given moment, but now, _now_ it was simply unbearable, a _nagging_, an agonizing and excruciating fear and desperation that she was in danger and there was _nothing_ he could do about it.

She was his best kept secret, his ace in the deck, his queen on the chess board. And while the queen protected the king, the king _bowed_ to the queen. He could not have her exposed. She was his very heart. And he'd do anything to protect it.

"Mycroft." Nora mimics back.

"I was worried." Mycroft finally says. "I worry about you. _Constantly_. Your loss would break my heart."

"Alright… I'm sorry I worried you." Nora apologizes. "But, I'm not sorry I did my job." She tells her husband, walking around to sit on his lap behind his desk.

"Firebird, I'm at work." Mycroft tells his wife.

"Well… _Maybe_… You could… Take some time off. Show me how much you worried? After all, I _just_ came home." Nora suggests, twirling his tie between her fingers.

"I'll have Anthea call my car." Mycroft replies, leaning in to kiss Nora on the forehead.

"Mmm, I thought so, Mr. Holmes."

"_Welcome back_, Mrs. Holmes."

**_Whiskey - Will_**

**_Foxtrot "Fox" - Adam_**

**_Sierra - Jonathan_**

**_Juliette "Jules" - Alexandria/Alex_**

**_Zulu - Nick_**


	11. Truth & Lies

No One's POV

"How are you feeling, my Firebird?" Mycroft asks, his hand coming down to check his wife's temperature; she had none, but this mysterious illness had him more than worried, even if Nora assured him it was most likely a quick few days bug or something that would pass given time.

He wondered if this meant she was pregnant, like he hoped and planned for, it seemed like it could be a high possibility given how he had planned it with her monthly cycle, but she hadn't said anything so he refrained from asking or deducing it; he had learned the hard way in the past and the scar he had from her bullet passing his arm reminded him not to try again.

"Like crap." Nora mutters, burrowing further under the covers of their California King's blankets.

"Shall I work from home today?"

"No. I'll be fine." Nora waves off weakly.

"You don't look fine." Mycroft points out.

"Yeah. Thanks. I _noticed_. I don't feel fine. But, I'll _be_ fine. If you don't work I'm sure the country will burn." Nora snorts a little before rolling over and closing her eyes.

"I have… A few competent assistants that can get through a day." Mycroft tells his wife.

"I'll be fine." Nora promises.

"Very well. Just for today. If it continues, I'll work from home." Mycroft compromises.

"Okay." Nora nods.

"_Sleep_, my Firebird." Mycroft says to Nora softly, kissing her crown. "I'll be home for lunch." As he closes their bedroom door.

Nora flipped their covers off their bed the moment she heard his car drive off, digging through her drawers to find the pregnancy tests she had stashed their a few days earlier (Mycroft was intensely private, and respected her privacy, which was nice, particularly if she wanted to hide things from him… Say a pregnancy test); _technically_, she wasn't late _yet_…

But a few things nagged at her mind, the timing of this sudden onset of nausea, let alone _how_ sudden it was, the conversation she had several weeks ago about children and retirement… But mainly her husband's sudden abundance of affection and romantic gestures; Mycroft wasn't overly romantic or affectionate, which is not to say he _wasn't_, but he tended to play things close to his chest and save it for key moments instead of suddenly all the time.

The five minutes seemed like an eternity.

_Positive_.

"I'm going to _kill_ him…" Nora mutters, staring at the three tests she had taken just to make sure, Nora sitting on the marble tile of their ensuite master bathroom.

"Will… I'm going to kill my husband." Nora tells Will over the phone, the conversation opening like it seemed many of their conversations often did.

"Okay… Well, I have the perfect place to bury a body and I can call the team." Will answers promptly. "But, _before_ that… Why don't you tell me why we're killing Zeus?" Will laughs.

"Because… Because he got me _pregnant_… Just so I would _retire_." Nora nearly screams, now tugging a little on her hair.

"Yeah, okay… Wait... _What?_" Will nods along over the phone, then pausing. "Did- did I hear you right? You're- you're _pregnant?_" Will repeats sounding shocked.

"Yes." Nora answers, her tone quiet.

"You know… Breaking in a new team leader is such a pain." Will quips.

"_Shut up_, Whiskey." Nora laughs a little, her laugh a little watery with tears. "This is serious!"

"I'll bring soup and be right over." Will answers. "Need anything else?"

"Those chocolates I like... You know, you're the best." Nora tells Will.

"Obviously." Will tells Nora with a playful tilt. "That's why I'm your best friend and beta."

"Call the team?"

"_Obviously_. It's like you don't even know me at all, Phoenix." Will scoffs. "Well make plans to kill Zeus and everything."

"And this is why I love you. You don't question things." Nora laughs a little.

"Well that's obvious too. Don't die or plan anything before we get there." Will laughs before the line clicks.

**_Remember to drop a review!_**

**_I'd also like to thank my loyal reviewers BookKeeper88, NicoleR85, and animexchick! You guys are awesome! Thank you from the bottom of my heart! You guys really keep me motivated!_**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	12. One Last Mission

No One's POV

Commander John Harrison had worked with Nora Thompson for over a decade; he had watched and overseen her rise through the ranks from a first year recruit to the formidable and top agent she now was.

She was one of, if not, the best agents he had; however, he also put up with the many antics and stunts she had pulled over the course of her long, successful career.

By the book was _not_ necessarily an attribute that could be attributed or be used to describe Nora Thompson.

Much like their leader, the Alpha team that Phoenix led, the Alpha team had aptly gained their reputation and their name as the War Dogs. They were like wolves; ruthless, efficient, resourceful, vicious in protecting their own, and loyal to a fault. Point them at a target and there was no question whether or not they would be successful.

The news of Phoenix marrying the all-important and enigmatic Mycroft Holmes, who everyone knew truly ran the British government, came as a shock to everyone, but no one more than Commander Harrison. But, if he thought it would reign in or settle Nora in _any_ way, he was wrong. If anything, she was just as much of a force of nature as always, if not more so.

Commander Harrison thought Phoenix may drive him to an early retirement.

After this last report, he was _positive_ it was true.

_Zeus is thundering._

The coded message went out across encrypted channels to every MI6 agent in the agency, pulling any and every active agent back from missions that weren't considered hot and recalling them to SIS Headquarters immediately.

Commander Harrison approached Mycroft Holmes office with great dread and trepidation in every step, feeling very much like a man walking to the gallows... Or at least, a man that was seeing a vision of the end of his career; it may go down in flames, much like the personification of the very bird Agent Thompson was named after.

"Commander Harrison, what can I do for you?" Mycroft greets, shutting a folder on his desk.

"It's Phoenix, sir."

Nora woke with a start, gasping a little and holding her side as if remembering the wound that had shot her down in the first place.

"Easy, Phoenix." Whiskey says, steadying her.

"Where the hell am I? What the fuck happened?" Nora demands, blinking a few times and reorienting herself.

"Hospital. You got shot."

"Hospital. _What!?_ Why the _hell_ am I- Did you- We are in the middle of a-" Nora begins to rant.

"I didn't order it. _He did_." Whiskey jerks his head to the other agent, the new transfer from another team, who if things had or did go well, would replace her as team leader.

This was her last mission with her team, at eight weeks pregnant, it was time for her to retire, she knew of course, the moment she officially put in her papers with that listed as the reason why, Mycroft would get wind of it, promptly yanking her from the field, her two weeks be damned; she couldn't hide it from him, she was surprised she had hid it from him _this_ long. But this mission was too important, her team had been training for _weeks_ prior to her pregnancy announcement, and being a man down would _cripple_ them, no, they _needed_ her, and the intelligence the informant would bring was too important as well. She would stick it out come hell or high water.

"_You_." Nora narrows her gaze, swinging her legs off the bed. "You _compromised_ our entire goal. You could have compromised our entire mission! What the _hell_ were you thinking!?"

"You got-"

"I don't care! You _follow_ through. Come hell or high water. This team isn't some playground or preschool where you learn to play nice…. This is the big leagues now. We're the _War Dogs_. This was not a life threatening injury. Fox or Zulu could have checked me over. Now- now you put us back _hours!_" Nora continues to yell. "Despite what you _think_, you _aren't_ in charge of this team _yet!_"

"Told you she'd be angry…" Fox mutters to Jules, both snickering together as they bump knuckles.

"Let's go." Nora growls, grabbing her gun from Whiskey, holding her side a little from where it was bandaged thoroughly; damn, it hurt like a _fucking_ **bitch**.

"You know, Zeus is going to find out about this… And-" Whiskey tells Nora, gesturing to both the wound and her stomach as if to indicate her pregnancy, there was no way now that the information _wasn't_ getting to Mycroft, and when that happened, all _hell_ would break loose. They'd be _lucky_ if he didn't come blazing in with the rest of MI6…

"Yeah… Hopefully we can get this done first." Nora responds with a grimace.

Mycroft had never felt so much fear, anger, and _helplessness_ in his entire life than when he read the mission update given to him by Commander Harrison, his wife's boss; his wife was _pregnant_ and on an active mission, _worse_ she had gotten injured.

_None_ of which she had told him… Perhaps that was fair… Since he had gotten her pregnant in the first place and he hadn't exactly told her _nor_ asked if she wanted children, but none of that passed his mind at the moment of reading the report.

"Commander Harrison, I want every MI6 agent-"

"Already done, sir."

"Alright, do we have all have our jobs clear?" Nora asks.

"Copy, Phoenix." Her team echoes.

"Great. I want this mission to be wrapped up nice and neat. It is my last one, after all…" Nora tells her team. "Now, Alpha team, we breach from the east, Bravo team, the north… Our target is somewhere in the southwest side of the compound… It is vital that we bring him in _alive_. On Zulu's count we breach."

"Three, two, one…. Power is cut." Zulu announces.

"_GO!_" Nora commands, several flash bangs and explosions being set off in tandem.

"_Shit_." Jules curses lightly as gun shots go off from the Bravo team. "We got more combatants here than intel told us… You guys?"

"Same. Looks like this is gonna be one _hell_ of a last ride for you, boss…" Fox jokes a little as he fires a few shots, his shots targeted and focused.

"_Focus_ guys." Nora barks. "Bravo team, have you made it to the target yet?"

"Negative… We're still clearing the halls." Sierra comments.

"Timer's ticking. We need to speed it up."

Gun shots echo and ricochet around Nora and her team as they exit the compound they had just raided, their target secured between Nora and Whiskey as Fox and Sierra covered, Zulu and Jules taking other points behind them.

"We need to get out of here… There's too many of them… We're going to get stuck here..." Whiskey yells.

"I know!" Nora nods as they run. "Evac should be here soon. We need to get to the meeting point."

"_GET DOWN!_" Jules suddenly yells, a familiar high pitch whine of a heat-seeking missile coming in before suddenly half the compound explodes behind them, rubble raining down around them.

"_Zeus_." Nora mutters, pushing herself up from the ground and flipping hair out of her face, her expression livid.

"Your husband is so fucking _extra_…" Whiskey explains, pushing himself up from the ground and helping their target up as well.

A moment later, helicopter blades whirled, the familiar thump thump, thump thump as the Black Hawk helicopters descended and powered down.

"He looks pissed." Fox comments.

"Well, I'm _more_ pissed…." Nora growls, stalking forward towards her husband.

"_Phoenix_." Mycroft strides towards his wife, for once, out of his normal three piece suits, and instead in full tactical gear like his MI6 days.

"WHAT THE _HELL_ WERE YOU THINKING, _ALEXANDER MYCROFT CHAD HOLMES!?_" Nora screams at her husband. "You almost _blew_ us up!"

"**_Chad!?_**" Nora's team snickers in the background.

"It's nice to see you too, Phoenix." Mycroft greets his wife placidly. "I was worried… It's nice to see that you take your safety into consideration… As usual."

"Oh _no_… You don't get to play that card with me…" Nora continues to rant. "What the hell! You think you can just _waltz_ in here with _half_ of MI6 and think everything is _fine!?_"

"I got your mission update." Mycroft answers evenly.

"Of course- of course you did!" Nora throws her hands up into the air. "And- and you think that gives you the _right_ to come _blazing_ in here like some- some _knight_ in black Kevlar!? You are _impossible!_ I wouldn't even _be_ in this situation if it weren't for _you!" _Nora glares and points a finger at her husband.

"**_Phoenix_**." Mycroft says again. "Phoenix… I understand you are angry."

"Oh- oh you do, _do you?_" Nora asks sarcastically. "I really don't think you do."

"Yes, I do." Mycroft placates his wife. "However, can we take our conversation elsewhere? This area is still somewhat unsecure."

"_Fine_." Nora stalks past her husband, gesturing to her team to board the Black Hawks. "But this conversation _isn't_ over."

"That I don't doubt." Mycroft mutters, sighing a little as he follows his wife into the waiting helicopter.


	13. Consequences

No One's POV

The helicopter blades whirled in the familiar thump thump, thump thump as the Black Hawks returned to England and the SIS Headquarters.

"I still can't believe you!" Nora yells over the thrumming noise of the blades, glaring at her husband; with the rising sun chasing them back to England from some place in the middle of Asia, it was easy to see the multiple Black Hawk and Apache helicopters spread out in the sky like an escort.

"Did you pull _every_ active field agent possible!? No- don't answer that… I already know the answer…" Nora cuts Mycroft off before he can answer, her arms waving a bit with emphasis. "You are _impossible_, impossible and insufferable at times!"

"So, we taking bets yet?" Fox mutters to Whiskey, leaning over to whisper; not that whispering was actually possible over the loud noise of the helicopter blades, the wind currents, or the fact that they _all_ had headsets on that connected them together on one channel.

"On?" Jules questions, butting into the conversation.

"How big the British Government's apology gift is going to be _this_ time?" Sierra suggests with a snicker.

"We bet on that _ever_ time." Whiskey waves his hand as if that was boring and a typical occurrence (it was). "How long Nora is going to disappear? If they're getting a divorce?" He then suggests, throwing out a few random thoughts.

"You know, I can _hear_ you…" Mycroft speaks into the headsets settled around his own ears, throwing his wife's team an unamused look.

"We know… _Chad_…." Nora's team chimes in unison, their grins nothing but pure mischief.

Nora goes to laugh at her team's antics, however, when she does so, suddenly cuts off, grabbing her side with a harsh wince as if it pained her to move or breathe.

"_Nora!?_" Mycroft is kneeling at her side in an instant. "Firebird!?"

"My- Mycroft-" Nora gasps, pulling her hand from her side to reveal blood on it, leaking from under her own Kevlar.

"_Boss!?_" Zulu jumps into immediate action, his med kit already in hand.

"Nora!?" Mycroft calls again, panic clear in his tone. "_Nora!?_"

"Mr. Holmes, you need to move, sir." Whiskey's hand is on his shoulders attempting to guide him away from his wife. "You need to let Zulu and Jules work."

"Nora… Nora…" Mycroft's voice fades out from Nora's consciousness. "Nora, I'm right here… I'm sorry… I'm right here."

The white washed walls and constant beeping of the hospital machines grated on Mycroft Holmes' already frayed and stressed nerves as he waited for his wife to wake and join the land of the living, his hands resting carefully on her bed, one on her hand and one resting gently on her stomach as if he could feel the child that rest safely and grew within her; it was silly and ridiculous sentiment, especially for him, one that he knew Nora would tell him, that is, if she were awake and knew his thoughts.

To be honest, when he began his entire plan to convince his wife to retire, or rather _force_ her to (if he was being honest with himself, he was selfish, he knew that, and Nora had every right to be angry at him), he hadn't really given much thought to _after_… As Sherlock would say, the little bits and details didn't matter, he was looking at the big picture, the plan, the _game_… Yes, the British Government, the Iceman, in all rights, a man with unparalleled genius, save for his sister and brother, hadn't thought _this_ plan through… He would never live this down as long as he lived.

But now, as the dust and chaos settled, he realized, he was going to be a _father_… The thought didn't bother him as much as he thought it would, as it would have if presented to him years ago; perhaps because it was with Nora. And, as long as she was _safe_, she was _happy_, nothing else mattered…

"My?" Nora finally opens her eyes.

"_Nora_." Mycroft sighs in relief, his hand immediately grasping hers just a bit tighter.

"I'm in the hospital… Aren't I?"

"You are at RAF High Wyncombe." Mycroft answers to which Nora only nods.

"My team?"

"Debriefing."

"_Nora_." Mycroft sighs tiredly after a few moments of silence between them. "Nora… What were you _thinking?_" He questions.

"What was I thinking!? What I was _thinking_, Mycroft." Nora bites out just sort of scathing and despite being in a hospital gown, managed to look just a fierce and fiery as ever. "_Was_… I was doing my _job_. If I hadn't gotten injured you would know _nothing_ about this and we wouldn't even be _having_ this conversation." Nora glares at her husband. "And _you're_ the one to talk… You- you got me _pregnant_… To make me **_retire_**. So I really don't think you have a leg to stand on right now."

"Did you even _think_ about the consequences?" Nora demands. "Or were you so intent on being right that you didn't care? So intent on making me retire from MI6 that badly? And, what about our child? Do you think I'm going to parent alone? Our child needs both parents! Not just one! So, if you think I'm the only one who's going to sacrifice their job, their entire life, think again!"

"Do you even _want_ or _care_ about this child, Mycroft?" Nora asks, the fight suddenly leaving her as she looks down at the sheets on the bed.

"Firebird…" Mycroft replies softly, moving his hands carefully so that his wife could track his movements and if so wished, push him away, not that he wanted her to push him away, but nonetheless he would give her the option to. "I will _always_ be there for you. _And_ our child."

"You owe me like a _million_ breakfasts in bed, My… And diaper duties… And getting up in the middle of the night when our baby cries… And a vacation before I'm too big to move and look like a whale that got beached." Nora grumbles a little, shifting in bed attempting to get more comfortable in the stiff hospital bed despite the fact she was in one of the VIP suites.

"Of course, Firebird." Mycroft brushes a stray hair out of his wife's face.

"Now get up here before I change my mind about being mad at you." Nora commands. "I deserve 'get well cuddles'."

**_I LIVE! Thank you for the comments last chapter... I noticed a few new reviewers. They MAKE MY DAY guys!_**

**_I've got to be honest... I don't know if it's this fandom, because most stories I've seen have a super low average review count... But this story has my lowest reviews... Guess I'm right there with all the others... So, I'm doing okay? I guess? Anyways, i_****_t's an odd feeling for me. To quote Thor "This is Earth, isn't it?"_**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	14. Jail Break

No One's POV

Nora could admit that barely a month into retirement she was already going stir crazy being basically locked up in the mansion with Mycroft's version of babysitters, which were _three_ teams of ever rotating MI6 agents, who in her experience could be doing things _much_ more important… Like serving their Queen and country.

Sure, _technically_, they weren't on what was considered hot missions out of country and could be called onto those at any moment… But _still_. Watching her reorganize the British Government's _tie_ drawer for the ten millionth time just because she was bored and being petty as fuck, wasn't probably exciting or what they _wanted_ to be doing.

Nora swung open the bathroom door from the master bedroom to hear silence, when in fact she knew she had left the tv on, her MI6 instincts immediately on alert; silently, she tip toed over to her nightstand, sliding the gun she had holstered under it out and cocking it as she pressed herself against the wall behind her door.

"I know you're out there. I have a gun. Come out, or I'll shoot." Nora threatens, sliding her gun forward into position; granted with her small baby bump she might not be as effective in hand-to-hand, but she'd still give the intrudes a well-fought out fight. "One, two-"

"Yeah, please don't, Phoenix. I've _been_ shot by you… It fucking hurts like a bitch." Whiskey answers through the door.

"Will? _What the hell?_" Nora swings her door open, her gun only slightly lowered.

"Guilty…" Adam answers with a grin.

"Wait- Adam? Are you- are you guys _all_ here?" Nora now fully lowers her gun and tucks it in her sweats.

"Yeah. Nick cut the power. Rest of us- uh- took care of the security…"

"You took them all out didn't you?" Nora says flatly.

"Eh… Semantics… So, are you bored yet?" Will asks with a grin that just glimmers of nothing good to come.

"Oh, fuck. _Yes_. _Hells_ yes." Nora curses with a sigh as she rolls her eyes at her longtime friends and teammates.

"Well, how about a little… Jail break? Figures we got about… Two minutes left until your hubby gets wind of this and does something extreme…" Adam looks at his watch.

"Great. Where to?" Nora is already jumping to go, grabbing her shoes and wallet before jogging after her team; so she didn't obvious know about this, but who was to complain? Certainly not her.

"Academy… We- we sort of got… Benched." Will tells Nora.

"_BENCHED!_ You got benched!?" Nora screeches. "Why the _hell_ did you get benched!? You're the _War Dogs!_"

"Hey boss, nice to see you back." Alex smiles as they jump into the SUV.

"Hey Alex, Jonathan, Nick… Now tell me more about the _benched_ thing." Nora demands, waving to Nick in the driver's seat and Jonathan in the passenger's side, Jules in the back taking a strategic point.

"We sort of... Almost blew up part of Tokyo on our last mission…" Jonathan explains with a cringe, remembering with equal parts shame, hatred, embarrassment, and pride the mission that got them benched; they were working with yet another "Phoenix" hopeful who was too arrogant, too sure of themselves, unwilling to listen to their team, too big for their boots, incompatible with team dynamics, and overall unfit to lead a team like the War Dogs. Alright, so sue them, they were _picky_…

"I- I don't even know what to say to that." Nora gapes.

"In our defense… The new hopeful was terrible. They didn't listen to us one bit. And it totally could have been avoided if they had just listen to Nick and Alex." Adam adds in.

"_Shit_." Nick curses lightly as the SUV suddenly screeches to a halt.

"What?" Nora asks.

"_That_." Nick nods to the blockade in the road and the sudden sound of helicopter rotors up above.

"Well, we didn't get nearly as far as I expected." Will tells Nora as he looks around at the Royal Armed Services surrounding the car, guns aimed.

"This is the British Royal Armed Services. We have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up. We repeat, we have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up."

"Tell me you expected this… Right?" Nora looks at her team.

"Your husband is so _extra_, Phoenix." Will sighs as he opens the door for Nora.

"Don't I know it." Nora sighs.

"_Nora_." Mycroft is a mix between angry and relieved. "Nora, are you alright?"

"In my defense… I didn't plan this." Nora tells her husband as he sweeps her into a hug, his hand pressing down gently on her small baby bump as if to ensure her and the child she carried, **_his_** child, were safe.

"In our defense…" Her team all raise their hands innocently as Mycroft turns his glare onto his wife's previous team, the Royal Armed Service still pointing guns at them. "Whiskey thought it was a good idea first."

"_Thanks_." Will replies flatly. "You all agreed…" He glares at his teammates.

"What were you _thinking!?_" Mycroft demands. "You took out her security team and our home security? They are there for _her_ security! And she is in no state to be running around after you all!"

"Okay…" Her team sort of snickers. "_Chad_… It's not our fault your security sucks… At least make it a challenge next time…"

"I should have you all up on _charges for treason!_" Mycroft gets an impressive sort of red as if he's going to start ranting further. "Are you all _insane!?_ Do you have _any_ idea-"

"Okay, okay… _My_, first… I'm pregnant… _Not_ dying, My. And, second… They didn't do any actual harm. It wasn't like they were dragging me off to a mission. We were only going to the Academy. I was going to watch them train." Nora calms her husband, gently placing a hand on his chest before he rants himself into a heart attack or something.

"Fine. Fine… Then I'm going with you." Mycroft decides; _someone_ had to keep an eye on his wayward wife if she wasn't going to stay put and _clearly_ the highly trained MI6 teams he had watching her _weren't_ if the War Dogs took them all out like stupid, incompetent, first year recruits; heads were going to _roll_ for this.

"You know, it's kind of cute when you come in all guns blazing and all…" Nora tells Mycroft when they are sitting in the crow's nest where traditionally the instructors are, only now, only Mycroft and Nora, and a few of the British Royal Armed Forces remain.

"Don't test me, Nora."

"I'm just saying." Nora replies innocently, sitting down on Mycroft's lap. "It is. And, I really _didn't_ know they were coming. I almost shot Will."

"You _should_ have." Mycroft grumbles a little irate at her team for getting his wife back into this mess even indirectly.

"Thank you for coming to my timely rescue." Nora kisses Mycroft. "I'll have to thank you properly later."

"I'll always come to you rescue, Firebird." Mycroft answers, hand coming to touch her cheek.

"We're ready, Phoenix." Will calls out from down in the arena.

"I've got a team to oversee." Nora kisses Mycroft again, slipping on her headset. "And you have a nation to run."

"Whiskey, you have an enemy combatant coming up on your left." The interim Phoenix relays.

"My left or your left?" Whiskey responds with a smug smirk.

"Fox, take Jules' six." The interim Phoenix orders.

"Copy, Phoenix." Fox replies, weaving towards Jules, but misses a shot that was supposed to cover Jules, which gets Jules taken down.

"Zulu, I need you to open the door coming up on your right. Sierra cover for Zulu." The interim Phoenix orders.

"Copy, Phoenix." Both Zulu and Sierra answer over the coms.

"Oh my god… They're a disaster." Nora mutters, watching the simulation like a slow train wreck in the making, the simulation just getting worse as it goes on, hearing every communication and order, and seeing every move her team makes as they move through the course.

"You are all a bunch of yapping dogs down there… I can't believe it." Nora tells her team over the coms after she unmutes herself. "That was a disaster from start to finish. I can't tell if you are sabotaging yourself because you are all stupid or because you genuinely are all incompetent without me."

"What can we say, we miss you." Will tells Nora.

"Too bad. I'm pregnant." Nora fires back. "Good God…" Nora mutters again.

"My, I need a favor."


	15. Captain John Watson

No One's POV

The thing about John Watson was, he was actually a very simple man, no, not stupid, but _simple_; John enjoyed his life with Sherlock in 221B Baker Street with Rosie, and as much as he tried to deny it, he wasn't sure his life with Mary would have been all he wanted. Maybe in the end they wouldn't have worked out, he didn't know, she wasn't here anymore for him to find out…

Sure, his friendship with Sherlock _wasn't_ always smooth sailing, and Sherlock infuriated him to no end (he'd have to ask Nora how she put up with _Mycroft_ of all people), but he had been an army doctor for Her Majesty's Royal Armed Services in Afghanistan, so it was safe to say a _little_ rough sailing was alright and nothing he couldn't handle.

Sherlock and John stood over yet another case DI Greg Lestrade needed help on when an all too familiar black car pulled up to the curb, the back door opening on its own.

"Uh, Sherlock…" John notices first, his head popping up to look, waiting for Athena or _whatever_ her name _actually_ was, to step out.

"Hmm… I'm working, John." Sherlock tells his friend a bit impatiently.

"Yeah, well. I think we need to leave." John answers, waving a bit in the direction of the sleek, black, private car Mycroft could always be seen in.

"I don't." Sherlock simply answers, continuing to look over the body in front of them.

"What- what do you mean, Sherlock? That's Mycroft's car."

"Get in the car, John." Phoenix's, or rather, Nora's voice is heard from the speakers.

"Nora?" John questions, tilting his head confused.

"Yes. Hello John. I have need of your services. Now, please, get in the car." Nora requests.

"Umm… Okay. Have you turned into your husband now? Whisking them away in a black car to unknown places?" John questions a little as he walks towards the car. "Sherlock, you coming?"

"I _can't_. It's above my security clearance." Sherlock answers, but his tone is a bit almost petulant at the first part, looking up only briefly to meet gazes with John.

"What?" John is officially confused.

"Now go, John. You're needed. Don't argue. I've learned its best not to… At least with Nora." Sherlock waves flippantly to his friend.

John slips in the car to find it empty.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there to meet you, John. I'm needed where I am right now." Nora offers.

"Alright… What's this about? Sherlock said I'm needed? Do you need my medical expertise?" John asks, feeling odd talking out loud to no one.

"No, John. I need your military expertise." Nora replies. "Officially John, your security clearance has been moved to a level 7. You are being driven a MI6 Black Site. Where the MI6 teams train… On the seat, you'll find a file. In it, five people. Those are my old team. The _War Dogs_. Read it and learn it."

"Wait… Wait! What! I'm- I'm retired, Nora." John protests.

"I know, John. But I need your help." Nora tells John. "The War Dogs have driven off every other Phoenix hopeful…. And they almost blew up Tokyo on a last mission… They need a leader. There is a mission coming up. The War Dogs are needed. No other team can do it. I'll see you soon, John. I'm already at the site." The line cuts off.

"Well then." John huffs, opening the file; he best get reading, who knows how long it would take to get to this site?

"Thank you for coming, John." Nora greets, turning to greet John as he ambles into the crow's nest.

"You didn't exactly give me a choice." John huffs a laugh.

"Hello Dr. Watson." Mycroft is typing away at a laptop in the corner.

"Did you orchestrate this?" John turns to Mycroft.

"You'll find quickly, Dr. Watson, when it comes to my wife, there is very _little_ I can do to rein her in…" Mycroft answers, giving John a look before continuing to type away. "Including, _apparently_, keep her under lock and key in our own home with several MI6 teams…" Mycroft mutters softly.

"I heard that." Nora shoots back with a playful look.

"I didn't say anything, Firebird."

"_Sure_." Nora rolls her eyes at her husband.

"Alright, come see the War Dogs." Nora gestures down to the bay of windows that overlooks the arena.

Down below, Nora's old team runs drills together, this time Whiskey acting as leader; Will certainly wasn't as good as Nora when it came to leadership, but while not on active missions was efficient enough, at least Will was a part of the team and they all trusted each other without undermining the current leadership or structure of the team.

"Impressive."

"Well, I'd like to think not as impressive as when I was in the driver's seat." Nora smirks a little. "They're a goddamn _disaster_ with any other leader. I think they're sabotaging themselves. I mean, they get the mission done. They're professionals. They'd _never_ risk each other, the mission, or any bystander… _But_, that said… None of the leaders yet have been anywhere near acceptable. Believe me, I've met a few of the interim leaders. They're assholes a good lot of them. They need someone. Desperately." Nora tells John.

"And, what? You think I'm suitable? I don't have some fancy degree. Or any one of the qualifications you or your team have."

"No. But, you know when to listen. You're around _Sherlock_, for god's sake. I'm sure you've picked up a few things. And, you did serve in the army. Let's not completely disqualify you, Captain John Watson. Look, sometimes those things are great. But, other times, what you have is better. I'll run through the sim first. From up here of course… You can see how it works. Then, give it a try. Just be prepared. They put all the new leaders through hell. I've heard all the coms. They're a bunch of children, I swear…"

"Alright. Deal." John nods.

"Good." Nora smiles, clicking on her head set again and handing John one. "Alright you yapping pups, you ready to run another sim? This time… _I'm_ leading it."

"That was… Wow." John flicks his headset up.

"What was the time?" Nora checks the clock. "Hmm… I was under record." She frowns.

"You're pregnant." John points out.

"Not dying though." Nora adds. "Simulations are done in all sorts of conditions. The military styles their simulations off of the MI6 ones… Anyways, you ready?"

"No." John tells Nora honestly, Mycroft barely holding back a snort from the back of the room. "There is no way I can get anywhere near that." He tells Nora.

"That's not the point. I wanted you to see how the team can work together."

"Well, I don't think I can get that either."

"Trust me. I'm sure you can get them to work for you." Nora promises. "Now, let's get going."

"We're running it again." Nora tells the team. "This time, you have a _new_ candidate." She can hear the groans in the coms.

"I can feel the trust and support already…" John deadpans.

Nora just grins, the grin downright wolfish.

"Alright everyone." John barks out. "I don't want any funny business. Which, I know you'll try to pull. I've heard some of your old coms… And I'll tell you right now. You won't get to pull that shit with me. I'm not going to try to order you around and micro manage you… I know you know your jobs. So let's get to it." John states firmly as the arena goes dark.

"Who the _fuck_ are you?" Whiskey demands, his metaphorical hack rising at the commanding voice in his ear.

"I don't know… Why don't you ask her?" John answers back, then he gestures to Nora as he sees one of the lights flash upwards towards the crow's nest.

"_Damn it_, Nora…" Whiskey curses into the coms.

"Captain John Watson, at your service. I'm a friend of Phoenix's. Now, let's get this shit show on the road."


	16. Mission Debrief

No One's POV

"I quit!" John announces, walking into one of the briefing rooms of the SIS Headquarters, the War Dogs striding in behind him. "I almost got _shot_ **_again!_**" John flails his arms for emphasis.

"You didn't _almost_ get shot." Will rolls his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic and a _girl_… No offense to Alex… Because she's badass and could kill me… It missed you by like a _half_ _meter_." Will adds. "Besides, Adam shot the guy for you!"

"Well, a half meter _too_ bloody close!" John is indignant, drawing himself up to full height; _not_ that it was terribly tall, basically everyone on the team was taller than him, except Alex, but she was the same height, however, that wasn't saying much, since that was average for a woman.

"I take it… The mission went well?" Nora smirks.

"Your team is _bloody_ **_insane_**, Nora!" John exclaims with a huff.

"I see… All the thanks I get for saving your life…" Adam grumbles good-natured as he sits down in his own seat.

"Well… I _knew_ that." Nora deadpans, sitting down at the front of the conference table.

"Rude!" Will objects.

"No… _True_." Nora points to her team.

"Alright… Now, _behave_ children… Let's get this debrief finished so you can all go home and relax." Nora claps her hands together once to gain their attention as Will and Adam slouch in their chairs sideways, Alex talks to Nick, and Johnathan and John probably the only two people _actually_ paying attention.

"I need alcohol… A lot of alcohol." John mutters as he walks out of the conference room an hour later.

"Well, I can't have alcohol." Nora laughs at John's exasperated face. "But, I can offer you tea and we can chat back at my place. Mycroft is working late I think." Getting a confirmation text a moment later. "He is."

"Is he watching us on the cameras?" John asks.

"It's like you don't know my husband at _all_, John…" Nora rolls her eyes, giving the nearest camera a wave.

"That's not creepy…" John mutters.

"Careful. That's the British Government, John." Nora teases, bumping John's shoulder.

"He's the one that says he has a 'minor position'!" John defends with a laugh.

"He's attempting to be modest. He doesn't do it well." Nora rolls her eyes again as they walk out of the SIS Headquarters.

"Do you know what type of car that is?" John stops suddenly, staring a bit blank faced at the car Nora was about to slide into.

"Unfortunately…" Nora sighs.

"That's a Mercedes S-Class Pullman Guard." John manages to get out.

"I know…" Nora sighs again, looking a bit put upon. "Mycroft's a bit… _Protective_… I'd like to call it **_paranoid_**… 'I only want what's best for you, Firebird' he says… So, I let him get it for me…" She badly mimics his voice at the end.

"Uh-huh… I can see that." John sort of nods robotically, as if he's still in a state of shock, and Nora simply laughing at his reaction.

"Home, please." Nora tells her driver as the car drives off.

"So, how did you and Mycroft meet anyway? I really don't mean anything against you, Nora… You're _fantastic_. But, I don't think I could have _ever_ imagined **Mycroft Holmes** _married_…" John asks Nora, now that they are both settled in the living room of the Holmes' mansion.

"I know. It's okay. Trust me. Most people are or were shocked when they found out. It's a bit of a… _Interesting_ story." Nora laughs and waves off John's question.

"Okay, you _have_ to tell me now." John tells Nora, settling back in his seat and picking up a finger sandwich and his cup of tea.

"We met at President Obama's Inauguration Ball."

"That was in 2008!" John exclaims.

"Remember, eight years." Nora points as she sips on her own cup of tea, her feet tucked under her and pillow wedged in her lap.

"Right, right. I just- I'm still having trouble believing… And wrapping my head around it all." John waves his hands a little hysterically. "It's just- it's _Mycroft Holmes_. You know, he kidnapped me the first night I was with Sherlock."

"Mmm… Well, that sounds like something he'd do… He's a bit _over protective_. As you can tell." Nora says dryly and gesturing around her to the fortress that had become her home and obviously to what John had already witnessed.

"Just a bit." John snorts.

"Anyway… I was his date to the ball. He needed one and I had a joint mission with CIA." Nora explains. "While we were there, to keep cover, I told one of the African Ambassadors, Ambassador Imari and his wife Ayo, that I was Mycroft's wife."

"I bet that went over well." John mutters.

"Like a lead balloon." Nora smirks. "Mycroft was furious. But, he managed to not completely blow our cover once I explained my reasoning."

"What were your reasons?"

"The agent I worked it didn't exactly know how to take a hint." Nora answers. "I had worked with him on prior missions. This was an important one and honestly, we couldn't spend time with him trying to make passes at me half the time."

"Ah." John nods in understanding… "How _did_ you end up as Mycroft's date? I mean, surely there were other agents too."

"Mycroft claims he had nothing to do with it. And, that could be true. Mycroft only oversees parts of MI6. His job is too broad and it would consume too much of his valuable time if he managed the entire division. So, he's not actually my direct boss. There are several chains of command between him and me. But… That said, my boss, Commander Harrison, I don't know why he picked me personally. There are other female field agents." Nora answers John's question.

"So, one mission… And, that's it?" John questions, a little skeptical.

"Oh, God no." Nora laughs. "Word… Sort of… Got around in the upper circles… About what I had said. It was a month later I was called to his office and he slaps down a marriage certificate and demands I sign them. He would rather save face then tell everyone it was for a _mission_. I was furious!" Nora shakes her head a little at the memory. "He told me I could continue living my life as I had been and nothing would change."

John was practically gaping at Nora.

"I was going to tell him to fuck it and shove those papers in some unsavory place…" Nora shrugs. "But, I re-evaluated my options. Being married to Mycroft Holmes… They had… _Some_ perks. As arrogant, controlling, obsessive-compulsive, and neurotic as he could be. So, I signed them and demanded that I move in to his mansion. And well… That was that. We were married."

John sort of sputters a little, as if not quite comprehending that was how the British Government and the Phoenix began their life together.

"We were at each other's throats for about a year. I'd rearrange his sock drawer or something and he'd snip at me or put my team on another assignment… We basically wanted to kill each other until we just… _Stopped_. Somewhere along the line we- started to respect each other and now… Here we are." Nora finishes her story.

"So… So… You never got a _wedding?_" John asks.

"Uh… No…" Nora blinks.

"That's terrible, Nora. Every woman deserves a wedding! I don't care if you started out hating each other! You deserve a wedding!" John waves his hands around.

"Well, it might be a bit late for that now, John." Nora adds. "Plus…" She gestures to her ever growing baby bump.

"So you wait!" John huffs, looking annoyed for Nora.

"Well… I did always want one… I mean, when I was little… I had mine practically all planned out…" Nora tells John.

"Yeah, see?" John nods. "_Every_ girl." He nods empathetically. "You deserve one!"

After her talk with John, Nora had gotten curious; during the last eight years with Mycroft she had gone on several joint missions with CIA, but had never gone on one with that particular agent that had made inappropriate passes at her. It was like he had disappeared.

_Agent Elliot Harkness_

_Citizenship: United States of America_

_Affiliation: Central Intelligence Agency of the United States of America_

_DOB: April 16, 1976_

_KIA: September 28, 2008_

_Last Mission: Southeastern Asia, Code name: Black Cobra_

"So…" Nora tucks her head under Mycroft's chin, by now, Mycroft used to his wife using him as a glorified body pillow in bed, her growing belly making her uncomfortable even in their memory foam, tempurpedic bed. "I found out something very interesting today… After my talk with John Watson…"

"And, what is that, my Firebird?" Mycroft asks, his fingers gently stroking down his wife's back.

"That you had a certain CIA agent sent to Southeastern Asia on a mission… And he never returned." Nora tells her husband, shifting her head to look up at him. "Care to explain? We didn't even _like_ each other at that point…"

"It didn't matter. You were still _mine_. _No_ _one_ was taking you from me." Mycroft tells his wife, his arm that was wrapped around her, holding her just a fraction tighter to himself, the action one of clear possession and possessiveness. "He had to _go_."

"Mmm... I think I sort of _like_ you possessiveness, My." Nora grins a little, leaning up to press a kiss to Mycroft's cheek, her hands smoothing across his chest. "And, remind me to never make you mad." She says flirtingly.

"I've _always_ taken care of you, Nora. Even in the beginning." Mycroft whispers, leaning towards his wife for a kiss.

"I know you have." Nora presses a kiss to Mycroft's lips.

"By the way… I want to get married." Nora tells her husband, whispering it against his lips.

"We **_are_** married, Firebird…" Mycroft answers, pulling away to look at her face, clearly _not_ understanding what his wife wants; a rarity for sure.

"Yeah… But I didn't get a wedding. John and I were talking. And… Well, anyways… I didn't get a wedding. I want a wedding! We should have a wedding!" Nora explains, her eyes lighting up in what sure would be an enthusiastic rant.

Mycroft looks at his wife and silently curses the day John Watson _ever_ came into his life.

**_Harkness... In honor of Jack Harkness in Dr. Who._**

**_Mercedes S-Class Pullman Guard is the same car Edward got Bella as a human because she was so "breakable"... It's a luxury limo designed to withstand a bomb blast underneath it and is bullet proof.  
_**

**_ONE more chapter left and I'm finished with this story!_**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	17. Treated Like a Queen

No One's POV

"And, here is your tea, Firebird." Mycroft offers, bringing his wife the tea she had requested as well as a few finger sandwiches to keep up her energy; she was in her last trimester by now and Mycroft had taken to hovering and catering to her every need, treating her like a queen.

His need for control, his wife's protection, and her well-being had only increased; Nora had barely managed to get her husband from installing a _laser_ security system around their house.

Mycroft had even taken to working from home in the last trimester of Nora's pregnancy, while he would be given maternity leave, he didn't want to take it quite yet, leaving that for when their child was officially born so his attentions could otherwise be solely on Nora and his newborn daughter.

"Thank you, My." Nora smiles at her husband, reaching up a hand to cup his face and give him a kiss.

"You're welcome, my dear." Mycroft replies, returning the gesture.

"Do you need anything else?" Mycroft continues to hover around his wife as she sips her tea.

"No, I'm perfectly content." Nora shakes her head. "I would like, however, for you to stop _hovering_. I'm _pregnant_. Not dying." Nora offers, taking Mycroft's hand in hers and gently giving it a squeeze, hoping it was reassuring. "Why don't you go work?"

Mycroft huffs a little, clearly reluctant to leave her side.

"_Go_… What are you waiting for?" Nora shoos. "I'm not going anywhere, Will is close by, so is the rest of my team, and you're only going to be in your office. What is possibly going to happen to me?"

"Very well." Mycroft huffs again, kissing his wife on the cheek before moving to do as directed by his wife.

"You're so whipped." Will comments, walking into the living room, holding a bag of pretzels in his hand as he helps himself to snacks.

"Do you exist to simply _irritate_ me?" Mycroft asks, giving Will a dry glare. "I didn't hire you to take over my house."

"Oh yeah. You bet." Will smirks back. "And yeah, you kind of did. You wanted us to protect Phoenix…."

"Alright, boys…" Nora rolls her eyes. "My, you had work to do?" She prompts her husband before he can begin to bicker with her best friend or find some excuse not to leave her side… _Again_.

"And aren't you going to share your food? Or are you going to deprive a pregnant lady?" Nora teases her best friend.

"You know… It won't be long until this excuse won't work…" Will sighs, offering his food, or rather _her_ food to her, since it was _her_ house.

"Of course it will. Then I'll have a baby." Nora smirks. "Because every Queen needs a Princess."

"_Damn_. You're right." Will curses as he sits down.

"I'm _always_ right, Will." Nora laughs.

**_So I lied... I decided to add a few more chapters. HAHA!_**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	18. Stork Delivery

_Two Weeks Later_

No One's POV

"Don't you have… A country to run? Or… _Something?_" Nora sighs in exasperation, walking, or rather _waddling_ towards the kitchen; despite her best efforts to evade her husband, it wasn't all that easy with her ever growing size and Mycroft's laser like focus on her and sniffer dog tendencies.

Don't get her wrong, his willingness to care for her, bend to her every whim, and treat her like a queen was sweet, but the coddling was getting suffocating and a bit much, despite his best intentions; he might just find himself with a pillow suffocating him one of these nights or to find that she had run off with her MI6 team again in attempts to make a jail break.

"Yes, but-"

"No buts, we'll have enough of those when the baby arrives." Nora shakes her head and shoos her husband out of the kitchen. "I just want some cookies… And some peace to myself…" The last part is said to herself.

"Very well… I'll be in my study." Mycroft permits.

"Thank you." Nora smiles and blows a kiss at her husband as she opens the fridge to get out eggs and butter for the cookie batter.

"You've got him wrapped around your pinkie… It's ridiculous." Will strolls in, plopping down in a chair.

"When I said I wanted space… I meant… _Space_."

"Boss' orders." Will offers.

"You know… A few months ago, _I was your boss_." Nora deadpans.

"Well… You're not now…" Will grins like a toddler who learned the word 'no' for the first time.

"I regret _everything_…" Nora groans.

"It'll be like I'm not even here."

"I highly doubt that." Nora snorts. "You can't be quiet or still for five seconds. You're practically like a five year old yourself, Will."

"Okay, I object to that statement." Will objects, holding up a finger in protest. "I am a _highly_ trained professional."

"Okay… Professional. Well, then just stay there and be professional." Nora snorts again, pointing to the chair Will is sitting in before turning back to her baking.

"So… What are you baking? And can I have some cookie dough?" Will asks five minutes later.

"_WILL!?_" Nora shrieks and laughs.

"What!? It's an honest question!" Will questions, looking innocent.

Nora tosses some flour his direction.

"Okay… Rude!" Will makes a face at his best friend, dodging the toss of flour, and lunging at his friend lightly.

"Will!" Nora pauses admits their food fight, feeling a trickle of water, not unlike what someone would feel like water after a shower running down your leg.

"What?" Will asks confused. "I barely hit you with flour…"

"No… _Will_…" Nora emphasizes, her hand pushing Will on his shoulder. "It's time to go to the hospital."

"Hospit- why?"

"I'm having the baby, Will. My water broke. Get Mycroft." Nora tells Will.

"_Oh_." Will pauses, looking down as if expecting some large puddle or something, suddenly snapping into action. "The stork is delivering." Will says into his com.

"Do you have a code for- of course you do…" Nora sighs, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Heard we got a stork situation." Adam rushes into the kitchen.

"Yes… Is _anyone_ going to get my husband? Or do I have to waddle in there and get him myself?" Nora asks, raising a brow.

"Nora- Firebird-" Mycroft comes rushing in a moment later, looking more frazzled than Nora had ever seen him before.

"Never mind."

"Why isn't she in the car yet?" Mycroft demands, turning to Will and Adam almost as if Nora wasn't there in the room.

"You told us to stay here…" Will points out looking a bit like a puppy who's attempting to try to jump through every hoop to please their master.

Nora sighs again.

"Someone could _help_ me to the car…" Nora suggests.

"Yes, yes… Car…" Mycroft nods, sort of hovering as if unsure what to do while both Adam and Will are only slightly more helpful.

"This… This isn't the way to the car last time I checked." Nora tells her husband as he leads her out, Will and Adam taking point and rear respectively.

"Tell me you didn't…" Nora sort of groans as Mycroft slides back a panel to reveal a keypad.

"I had extra time." Mycroft offers as explanation, not even bothering to look sorry about his 'extra' security.

"Can you really tell me you're surprised?" Will asks, giving Nora a look as if to say 'obviously'.

"Shut up, Will."

"Now I _know_ you're paranoid, My." Nora tells her husband as Mycroft gingerly helps her into their Mercedes S-Class Pullman Guard, two Escalades already idling and ready to escort them to the hospital, Nora assuming that the rest of her team were in them; after all, as Alex and Jonathan often said, they saw best from a distance, while Nick was their tech support.

"We're never having sex again." Nora threatens Mycroft, glaring at her husband as her contractions get closer, but not close enough to push, now settled into her private hospital room.

Will stifles a laugh from the corner of the room, Mycroft _insisting_ that one of her team remain in the room for protection, despite the hospital and private wing crawling with MI6 agents, and Nora swore the hospital had an Apache or Black Hawk helicopter on top of it as well, but she couldn't be certain.

"Why are you here again?" Mycroft asks.

"You wanted me…" Will points out, raising his hands innocently.

"Then stay _silent_." Mycroft glares.

"Fine… _Chad_." Will smirks at the end.

"Ah- _shit_." Nora curses, gripping Mycroft's hand in a death grip. "Never, _ever_, having sex again."

"Of course, dear." Mycroft nods.

"Mrs. Holmes, it's time to push."

"Fucking- finally." Nora mutters as she breathes out, swiping at a stray hair in her face; you'd think that this would be a breeze, after all, she'd been shot and blown up before.

"Deep breathes now, Mrs. Holmes. I can see the crown."

Nora hears a thump, looking over to see her husband on the floor, evidentially passed out.

"Oh for- bloody hell…" Will mutters, walking over to his best friend.

"Your husband is bloody _useless_ and a drama queen…" Will mutters, taking his place by Nora's side as he talks into his com.

"Now, is _not_ the time, Whiskey." Nora grits out, glaring at her best friend and breathing hard.

"Right. Well, you can squeeze the life out of my hand, then." Will offers with a wink.

Twenty minutes later a sharp cry rings out in the room.

"_Congratulations_."

"Hello there… Hello my sweet baby girl. I'm your mother." Nora coos, her daughter being laid in her arms, swaddled and clean.

"I get to name her, right? I did cut the cord, after all." Will asks with a smug smirk.

"I'll still shoot you, Will." Nora rolls her eyes at her best friend, despite the exhaustion pulling at her eyes.

"Hello Amelia Grace Holmes. Welcome to the world." Nora smiles.

"See her over there, Amelia? That's your mother." Mycroft holds his daughter in his arms, all wrapped up in her pink blanket, her tiny features looking as if they were touched by angels as she sleeps peacefully in his arms, snuggled and secure; Nora was resting in the hospital bed, exhaustion finally taking her after Amelia had managed to nurse a little. "I don't think you realize how lucky you are to have her… Because I really am useless. I know nothing of being a father or caring and raising a child. I hope you turn out more like her than me."

"But I promise, my dear Amelia, that I will do anything in my power to be the father you deserve." Mycroft speaks softly.


	19. Epilogue

_One Year Later_

No One's POV

The orchestra could be heard playing in the background as Nora put on the finishing touches to her make-up and checked her reflection, smoothing down her dress in the mirror in an unconscious gesture, nervousness getting the best of her despite the fact she had nothing to be nervous about.

"My brother is beginning to wonder if you are going to leave him at the alter, Nora." Sherlock knocks on the door.

"He _said_ that?" Nora questions, looking skeptical.

"In not so many words… I deduced it… He is quite nervous, however. I told him it was ridiculous. You two are _already_ married. This is just an exchange of vows." Sherlock answers plainly.

"Well, emotions are funny like that, Sherlock." Nora answers, smiling a little at the younger Holmes brother. "I can't say I'm not a little nervous too. We never got a real wedding."

"My brother loves you." Sherlock offers, seeming a bit awkward by the topic at hand, but at least making an effort to be somewhat assuring; he did happen to like his brother's wife, despite his often tense and awkward relationship with his elder brother. "More than I think- _thought_ he could love anyone." He amends the last statement; it was clear he was proven wrong about the topic of sentiment and love when it was in regards to his brother.

"Thank you, Sherlock." Nora walks up to the younger Holmes, gently placing her hand on his shoulder, touched by the sentiment Sherlock had offered. "You know, he loves you too."

"Nora?" Will knocks, head peeking in. "You ready to go?"

"I'm ready." Nora answers, pulling back from Sherlock and giving Sherlock an out from the sentimental conversation. "Wait… Really? I mean, _really_, Will? A _gun_. You have a gun around my one-year old?"

"It's got a safety on!" Will defends, gesturing to the gun while holding Amelia on his hip.

Nora simply sighs.

"This is what I get for having a bunch of secret agents for friends."

"_No_, this is what you get for marrying my _brother_." Sherlock quips with a smirk, correcting Nora.

"Yes. Agreed. Now, come on. Time to get you down the aisle. Unless you have second thoughts. In which case, Adam has a getaway car ready." Will jokes.

"Oh, come on. Let's go before Mycroft sends someone to retrieve me." Nora half jokes and rolls her eyes at her best friend.

Westminster Abbey was decorated eloquently with white roses, candles twinkling in the aisle, and petals scattered down the church aisle, as the piano music and violin of John Legend's _All of Me_ began softly in the background, Nora and Will appearing at the entrance of the sanctuary, all the guests rising in unison.

_'Cause all of me,  
Loves all of you.  
Love your curves and all your edges,  
All your perfect imperfections.  
Give your all to me,  
I'll give my all to you.  
You're my end and my beginning,  
Even when I lose I'm winning._

"Not too late to run." Will leans in to whisper.

Nora merely smiles and laughs softly, nudging her best friend with an elbow.

_You're my downfall, you're my muse,  
My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues.  
I can't stop singing, it's ringing,_

_In my head for you._

"Well… Time to become Mrs. Holmes… Again." Will breathes as they step forward together.

The rose archway and large embossed 'H' on the runner greet them as they pass through the doorway of the sanctuary, the piano music rising in volume, the rest of the wedding party already at the front, Mycroft looking especially handsome in his pristine suit.

_'Cause all of me,  
Loves all of you.  
Love your curves and all your edges,  
All your perfect imperfections.  
Give your all to me,  
I'll give my all to you.  
You're my end and my beginning,  
Even when I lose I'm winning._

_I give you all of me,  
And you give me all of you._

"We stand here in this hollow and sacred place to witness Nora and Mycroft renew their vows and love for one another… Now, both have written their own vows for one another." The priest says. "Let us proceed."

"In my life, my past, I have never desired marriage. Or love. For I am not a sentimental man. To me, marriage is merely the binding of two people under the law… An obligation. Or, a foolish, romantic sentiment for those who have little to lose and little to gain..." Mycroft began with what would seem like little sentiment. "But the years spent with you, Nora, have given me more than I could possible describe or tell you. You have shown me what love is. I vow to protect you, I vow to provide for you, and most of all, I vow to love you for the rest of our lives. For you are the heart inside me that I never knew I had and you have given me the greatest gifts in the world." Mycroft finally finishes, it clear he put a lot of thought and sentiment into his vows to Nora.

"As a young girl, I dreamed of the perfect wedding and the perfect love story… Of a fairy tale knight and a white horse that would sweep me away… But since then, I have learned that love isn't something that grows in a day or happens simply because I wanted it to. It's something that takes hard work. From the first day to the last day, and every day in between. On the good days I want to kiss you, and on the bad on the days I want to murder you and bury the body somewhere... Our story did not start out as a love story... And yet, in the end it's the only one I ever want to tell our daughter. Because love is not a fairy tale, it's a journey, it's an adventure, and it's _ours_. And I vow to always be at your side to take what comes. Whatever it may be." Nora returns Mycroft's vows with her own.

"Now, by the power of God and the State, I pronounce you husband and wife." The priest states. "You may kiss the bride."

"Hello, Mr. Holmes." Nora's eyes glitter with playfulness as the guests clap.

"Hello, Mrs. Holmes." Mycroft smiles slightly at his wife, a gentle and soft smile, reserved only for her as he carefully cups her face to kiss her, before finally sweeping her up into her arms and walking down the aisle.

**_Special thanks to Fanficqueen306 for helping me with the wedding vows! Once again, you're awesome!_**

**_I also can't believe I'm finished with this story! What a journey! It's the shortest story I've ever written... That's gotta be a record!_**

**_On another note... I've been getting zero reviews... On ANY of my stories. Honestly guys, that's depressing. It really is. It gives me zero inspiration or encouragement to want to write or update... Please review! It's as both a reader and author, it's very discouraging for the author, but I know readers are lazy... I've been there, done that, got the t-shirt. However, it really doesn't take much time to drop a small line..._**

**_Anyways, I'd like to thank my readers anyways. Because I know you are out there._**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**

**_All of You ~ John Legend_**


End file.
